When the War is Over
by GroovyKat
Summary: Part II to the story "It's War". Eighteen months have passed since Princess left G-Force and everything has changed -- Everything except the enemy. When Zoltar orders revenge upon the Ex-Swan, can Mark convince her to return to the team ... and to him?
1. Chapter 1

An oldie again? Sort of. This one I began pretty much the moment I finished the original "It's War" fic. It began sort of okay, and then somehow flew into a lot of crap that I really … really ….. re-he-he-he-ally didn't like.

So I let it sit and stew and let my mind reconsider things (about 12 months or so). Recently I got back at it. I fixed up pretty much all of it and reworked many parts of it to return it to what I consider a fairly readable fic.

This baby follows from "It's War", which is an essential read before you head in to this one.

Anyhoo. I do hope you enjoy this one. To those of you who painfully read the first effort, I do apologise and really hope I have appeased you with the newer offering.

Disclaimer: G-Force, Zoltar, Cronus, Mala, Anderson and Zark do not belong to me… The rest do.

~~O-O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O-O~~

**When the War is Over ….**

Eighteen months hardly seemed to be a long period of time. By breaking it down in simplest terms, and without pulling out the Western calendar to spend an hour working it all out, eighteen months was little more than 72 weeks, 504 days, 12126 hours or 727560 minutes; hardly enough time for a full life change and adaptation into something foreign and unusual.

At least that's what Princess, now known only as Cassandra or Cassie, had initially believed. Today was her official 18 month anniversary of life after G-Force. 18 months to the day that she had offered Mark her last farewell.

And gosh, hadn't things changed for her…

Six weeks after leaving the Federation grounds to begin life anew, she'd discovered she was pregnant. It had hardly been welcome news to her. Struggling to support herself and having to find means to add another mouth to the plan was a daunting task she believed not even the tactical offices at Centre Neptune could manipulate. But, she carefully planned and saved what little money she could to prepare, and six months later, she birthed the most beautiful little girl she'd ever seen in her life.

She thrived in the role of mother, finding that it filled the void in her life left after losing Keyop. There were obviously moments of tears and frustration as she struggled to appease the constant needs of a baby, but she rarely complained. She cried a lot at the loneliness of being a young single mother, but fought against every instinct to reach out to Mark and the team. They had enough on their plate right at the moment, and she didn't want to bother them with her own troubles.

G-Force had struggled, as she read in the papers, with her departure. She watched the first press conference Anderson had forced Mark to hold only two days after she left. He had tried so valiantly not to look human as he gave the world the news of the Swan leaving the team. She knew him better, though. It was obvious that he wasn't handling the break-up as well as she hoped he would.

"In time, Mark," she'd whispered to the television at the time. "It'll get better, I promise."

In retrospect, she saw how much she had overreacted to the situation. Her intent had been to hurt Mark, not the team. Her departure had affected them all, and she knew it would to some degree. Seeing them all at the conference, however, she saw exactly how deeply each team member was affected.

She wanted to run into the conference, throw her arms around each of them and beg their forgiveness. Fortunately she'd held on to her own pride and not done so, for she'd have to have forced another announcement only a handful of weeks later.

It wouldn't be fair of her to burden the mighty Eagle with an unwanted child. He needed his own freedom and the chance to fully evaluate who he was and what he needed before he could think to settle down with the one woman. Melissa had proved that beyond a doubt. He sleeping with her was more than Mark being drugged and drunk; it was about him needing to be a young man and experience life away from the team. Experience a real woman.

If Melissa could so be described.

Speaking of Melissa:

That had been a revelation all in its own. According to the news reports, Internet and tabloids (which actually did seem to get it right more often than not), Melissa had been charged alongside Anson for destruction of the G-1 mecha less than a week after the incident.

Court documents she'd obtained from one of her current workmates within the police department told a wicked story.

It was charged that Melissa and Anson had been in cahoots with the shamed and late Carrington, former Prince of Riga, to cripple the G-Force project. Intelligence received by Colonel Cronus had suggested a plot to destroy G-Force from within, to allow the Spectran forces to move into the Milky Way Galaxy to slowly take over and destroy what precious resources remained after the human populous had milked her dry.

While the charge could not be proven, the pair was still charged with mischief and vandalism of government property and received 24 months of incarceration at the new prison facility on the moon. With good behaviour it was expected they could leave inside of 12 months, but that was considered unlikely if the Eagle showed up to any parole hearings to dispute early release.

The existence of an Eagle sibling had been answered at trial. She was, indeed, Mark's half-sister. She'd used that information in her own defense plan. She plead temporary insanity to hearing the news that she had been lied to, cheated, and denied access to her identity. The knowledge that she had a brother, that brother being the Eagle no less, had destroyed her fragile sensibility and she'd been easy prey to a manipulative man like Anson.

Anson's defense was much more simple. He hated the Eagle. Cronus had unfairly dismissed him from flight duty, and his attack on the jet was payback to the Federation for allowing him to do so. He didn't admit too much else, although it seemed fairly obvious there was much more to it. Unfortunately, due to lack of evidence to prove it, he was only found guilty of the lesser charges.

He did vow, when the Judge handed down the verdict and sentence, that it wouldn't be the last they'd hear from he or Melissa …

Princess certainly didn't doubt it, which was yet another reason she was glad to have chosen to leave G-Force. Having her precious daughter in constant danger because of who her daddy was wasn't worth the risk. It was safer for her to continue to blend in with the civilians and lead as quiet an existence as was possible.

To achieve this, she'd needed to find herself a job. It took her a good few weeks to create a new working profile that would allow her to continue within her knowledge base and experience. Careful manipulation of work histories by hacking into various company databases, including those within the Federation, had given her a new lease on her working life.

Five weeks after leaving G-Force she began a new career with the Bomb Squad and explosive forensics departments in the city's largest policing center. It was a thrilling move than exhilarated her almost to the extent of her duties within the G-Force project.

She had new friends and a life she never thought she'd be capable of having.

It was wonderful.

It was incredible.

It was missing only one thing…

…Mark.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Mark grunted as he rammed his back up against the wall to take cover from gunfire. He held his hand in a fist and straightened his arm beside him across the chest of G-Force's newest agent, Lisa the Falcon, to stop her from advancing further.

Too eager to wait beside her Commander, Lisa struggled against his arm. "Commander, I can do it, just let me get in there."

He flexed the muscles in his arm to lock her in place as his eyes flashed an ice-blue glare at her. "I said no, Lisa."

She groaned and toyed with the side seam of her black wings. "Don't baby me. I know what I'm doing."

"Strangely enough," he grunted in response, "so do I. So you will wait for my order and not question it."

She pouted and slumped against the wall as a bullet whizzed past her red visor. "Gee, testy today aren't we?"

His lip curled and he roughly grabbed her wrist to run them both out of the corridor. He raised his wrist to his mouth to call his team. "G-1 to G-2, Jason, what's happening over there?"

"Keyop and I are heading out to the rendezvous point now, Skipper. The kid left them a couple of presents, so if I were you I'd haul your asses out of there."

He tugged hard on Lisa's wrist as they ran. "ETE?"

"About thirty seconds or so. Did you and G-6 get the intel?"

"Something like that." He stopped as he unhitched his birdrang to down a Spectran soldier at the end of the hallway. The move forced him to free Lisa from his hold and she shot ahead of him to attempt to bring down another.

She pulled a large gun from her holster and crouched to slide forward on the sides of the soles of her shoes toward him. She pumped off three shots into the chest of the goon and was back on her feet before he hit the ground.

"Lisa," he growled in and order. "Get behind me, your job is to protect the package, not get yourself killed."

"I don't need a babysitter," she snarked in reply.

"No but you need to obey orders."

She groaned as the two of them rounded the corner to collide with Keyop and Jason. She landed against Jason's chest and chuckled when his arms circled her shoulders to attempt to prevent the two of them from falling on their asses. "Why, hello. Fancy meeting you …"

"Later, babe," he smirked as he finally took her hand to continue running from the base.

"Do the two of you want to save it until we're out of here?" Mark spat as they approached the waiting Phoenix.

Behind them, the base jolted with the first of three explosions Keyop had set.

"Got to … leave …" Keyop brooped as he tapped code into his bracelet to let Tiny know to open the upper dome for them. "Big ... bang next."

"Hear that loud and clear, Keyop," Mark huffed as he opened his wings to leap into the warship. To his left and right, his three field team mates leapt high.

It was only three seconds before the dome closed over their heads and the elevator was dropping to lead them into the command deck.

"At your stations," Mark ordered, pointing to each vacant chair. "Jason, you get ready to fire one of your toys into that thing. Keyop should have had it weakened enough for them to work now." He looked to the team female. "Lisa, check your intel. That module is supposed to have a full listing of Earth bound Spectran allies. Don't lose it, for the love of God."

"On it, Mark." She flipped open the door to the storage drawer at her console and threw the cassette inside.

"Tiny," Mark said softly with a smile on his voice. "Get us the Hell out of here."

"Big Ten, Commander."

Mark let out a long breath once he knew the team was safe after yet another mission. Another job well done.

His eyes shifted to his team. They were not yet fully recovered form Princess' departure, but were coming close. Eighteen months was a long time to forget about the missing member … Well, not so much forget, but adapt.

Lisa was a strong addition. She was still green and had some definite problems with authority. Although she didn't hold the same skill as the Swan, she was adequate enough for the task.

She was also pretty enough to pull off the new public relations role that the Federation had decided to introduce. Nowhere near the beauty of his Swan, to him anyway, but more than enough to satisfy the marauding photographers and paparazzi that had begun to stalk each of the team members.

Jason had immediately set his sights on the young woman, and pursued her after their first meeting.

They'd begun a relationship within, Mark assumed, hours of their first encounter. It hadn't mellowed the Condor, any, but Jason's sudden and frequent absences to rendezvous with his new girlfriend finally gave Mark some alone time to take stock of his life and needs.

He only really had one need, however….

And she wasn't coming home, no matter how many times he looked pleadingly at the door.


	2. Chapter 2

She wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow and blew a stray bang of hair from her eyes. The circuitry in front of her wasn't exactly complicated. The bomb could be easily disarmed …

… if the wiring wasn't so poorly – and dangerously – put together.

"Has this place been completely evacuated?" she asked her colleague, a brown-haired and boyishly handsome young man in his late 20's.

He tilted his head to his shoulder to speak into his walkie-talkie microphone. "We clear or what, Sarge?"

There was a crackled response from the head of the divisional bomb squad unit stationed outside. "Yeah, kids. But that ain't no green card for you to play Boom Crash Opera in there. This subway is the life of this city. We want it in one-piece when you're done."

Princess chuckled quietly in time with her partner Damien's groan. "D'ya ever get the feeling that the man don't have faith?"

She dropped her gaze to her hip pouch as she searched for a small pair of pliers. "That might have something to do with you destroying half the lab, Damien."

"Hey," he smirked in self-defense, "he told me to test the strength of that new explosive."

She smiled as she returned to the dodgy wiring. "But did you have to test so much in one explosion?"

"Uh, yeah-h-h." He purred as he recalled the explosion. "It was pretty though, even you have to admit that."

She held on to two wires carefully as she formulated which would be the best to cut. "Very."

He leaned over her shoulder to survey the mass of coloured wires in his partner's hand. "How's it looking anyway, Cass?"

She sighed high and deep. "How good are you at the 100 meter sprint?"

He frowned at the implication things were looking bad. "14 flat, you?"

"9."

He choked. "You're shittin' me."

She raised her eyes. The look had a mischief glint in it. "Need me to prove it?"

He shook his head. "Is it really that bad, Cass?"

She shrugged and screwed up her face. "Do you need a head start before I cut this?"

"Seriously, Cass. Can you do it?"

She shrugged and gave him a faux defeated stare. "The only thing that scares me more than dealing with an expert serial bomber's kit is trying to disarm an amateur's bomb."

He sucked in a small click or air through the side of his mouth. "Tell me you're not playing 'eenie, meenie, miney, moe' with this."

"I don't want to lie to you, Damien …" She let the absence of anything further linger between them.

He sighed and blew upward to shift a stray bang of hair from his eyes. "Fuck…"

"Language," she chided on a whisper as she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and let the wire cutters decide the pair's fate.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

It had long been Lisa's mission to finally put an end to Jason's filthy habit. Even before she met the mighty Condor she'd been slightly off-put by the white stick hanging off his lip. She'd tried most of the usual tactics to convince him smoking was an evil habit that could even be termed a suicidal act. Everything up to and including withholding sex had been tried, but to no avail …

… Jason was as bull-headed as she was.

He countered her every argument and move with ones of his own.

Of course she didn't let it bother her too much. She was certain she had a habit or two that drove him insane.

Jason could sense her thoughts as she sat on the floor in front of the seat he was sitting in. His legs were set either side of her as she thumbed through an explosives manual on the coffee table in front of her.

"Lisa, forget it. Nothing you can do will make me give up my only vice."

She grunted and flicked over another page. "It's hardly your _only_ vice, Jase."

"It's the only one that seems to piss anyone off, though."

She let out a giggle, "which explains why do it."

"Exactly." He leaned forward and let his arms slide down over her shoulders to peer at her manual. His lip clicked as the edges twitched in a smile. "I remember Princess pouring over that thing night after night after her first failed attempt at disarming a Spectran bomb back in the early days."

"Was she a perfectionist?" she asked softly in a mild subject change as she drew her fingertip along a line of text to concentrate on it more.

He set his chin on her shoulder and nodded his head. "Yeah, but not through personality. She did it because she constantly thought she had to prove herself."

"To Mark?"

"She never needed to prove anything to him." His cheek rubbed against hers as she tried to give him a questioning glance. The move urged him to continue to explain. "For years she tried to get his attention, and with Mark being all duty-bound, she figured the best way to get him to notice her was on the battlefield."

Her brows rose in surprise. "That is probably the first time I have ever heard of her being less than brilliant."

His body rose quickly, ready to defend her. "Lisa …"

She quickly turned her upper body to expand on her statement. "Now, now, Jason … I didn't mean that to come out quite like it did. I … uh …" she pursed her lips and rubbed at her chin as she tried to think of the best way to voice her thoughts with as few words as possible – the more words used, the better chance of misinterpretation.

"I mean that only in a …"

"Uhuh?" Jason urged with a fold of his arms.

"Look. Mark is a duty bound boy scout who … Uh." She ran a hand through her hair. "Ahh, shit. She should have known that when they were out in the thick of things Mark isn't thinking anything but the mission. She could have gone in to battle butt-naked and he wouldn't have noticed it."

Jason's brow rose in a gesture that both accepted her comments and indicated he was picturing the image she'd offered. "Mm-hmm-mm."

She slapped his arm. "Hey. Remember. Girlfriend. Here."

His eyes fell to hers.

"So stop thinking about her in that way." She turned back to the manual. "At least when I'm present."

"Then don't give me images like that to work on."

She smiled as his body leaned down to hers again. "Then how about me, in wings and a G-string?"

The low, throaty chuckle that escaped his throat expressed his approval and intention of dragging her by the hair to their room. "You in a …." He was halted by the arrival of his Commander, whose nose was buried in a black manila folder of reports from their last mission. "Hey, Mark," he sighed in greeting.

Mark's eyes rose from the file and looked dull as he pulled out a solitary piece of paper and let it dangle from his thumb and middle finger. "Is this what constitutes a report these days, Jason?"

Lisa couldn't help but chuckle as Jason groaned and flopped backwards into the armchair. "I don't do reports, okay?"

"Really?" he responded flatly as he tucked the report back into the folder. "Then why did the Federation pay nearly $6000 for a brand-new, top of the line MAC?"

Jason shrugged, "porn downloads?"

Mark wished he could honestly be irritated and miffed as Jason for his flippant attitude towards his work, but he couldn't. Lately even he couldn't find the energy to be totally committed to the project himself. "Have you tried 'boredhornyhousewives dot com' yet?"

Lisa and Jason's brows rose at the question, but it was Jason who answered. "No, have you?"

Lisa commented a nanosecond before Mark could speak with a huffed: "Men."

Mark dropped his eyes to his female teammate and shrugged a shoulder as he flopped into the couch in front of them and flicked the folder onto the coffee table. "Don't go putting us all in the same category there, Lisa. I didn't say I'd visited the site."

"You didn't have to."

He picked up the TV remote and smiled as he aimed it at the plasma screen. "The only website I have bookmarked on my browser is the Official fansite for the Swan."

"Obsessed much?"

His eyes narrowed at the comment. "It's been on my browser since it first came online five years ago." He looked back at the TV and tilted his head as he flicked through the stations. "And, yes. I miss her and occasionally have a look to see if there have been any … sightings."

Jason snorted in response. "If she doesn't want to be found, Mark. She's not gonna be."

"I know."

"Let her go, Man."

"I can't." His shoulders slumped as he tuned in to a news station. "Not until I know she understands just how damn sorry I am."

"I think she knows."

"I just keep looking at that door, you know," he continued as if Jason hadn't even spoken. "I keep waiting for her to breeze in here like nothing ever happened."

Lisa, who for the most part felt really uncomfortable being present for this particular conversation, finally let out a huff. "God, Mark. You're talking about her like she's dead."

He swung his head to look at her. "No I'm not."

Surprised that his eyes were not full of anger as she expected at such a comment, she continued. "Then go find her. Stop sitting here on your ass feeling sorry for yourself, and go out there and find her."

"Huh?"

She groaned and pressed her hands into the coffee table to push herself to a stand. "We have access to the most expensive and extensive forensics and locating facilities known to man. We have three of the most brilliant tactical minds on this planet in this very room …" she let the comments linger a while in the silence among them and lowered her face in a devious and challenging manner. "Let's utilize this shit and track her skinny little ass down."

Jason purred low and Mark gasped at her suggestion that they go against the project mandate of using base equipment for personal vendettas. Jason pulled her into his chest and growled low into her face. "God, I love it when you talk dirty."

Mark tilted his head in indecision. "We really cant. That's not fair to her."

Lisa threaded her arms around Jason's hips and shrugged a shoulder. "And you think this whining and pining is fair to any of us?"

Jason chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I'm with her."

Mark folded his arms against his chest and curled a brattish lip. "The Chief will kick all our asses if we go through with this."

"But you might end up winning her back, Skipper. Isn't that worth a kick in the ass?"

Mark considered the question for a moment. Finally his eyes relaxed and a smile graced his mouth. "Let's give it a shot."

He tossed the remote onto the couch and flicked his hand over his shoulder in an order for the two of them to follow.

The TV slowly flicked behind them as they jogged through the doorway to announce a breaking news story.

"We interrupt this program with a breaking news alert from the Bloor subway station, where the bomb squad unit has been frantically working to diffuse an explosives device on the track. Officers: Damien Knight and Cassandra Anderson of the Central division Bomb unit, seen here leaving the Bloor Subway entrance, successfully disarmed the bomb about 45 minutes ago. Inside sources suggest…"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Celebrity and exposure were things that Princess felt she could definitely do without. As the Swan she was loathe to attend press functions and photoshoots. If not for the opportunity to be beside Mark, she'd have fought the entire process vehemently.

She didn't need it.

She didn't want it.

And now, as a civilian, she didn't command or deserve it.

So why, then, were there a thousand flashing bulbs and reporters hovering at the entrance to the subway station when she and Damien walked out dangling a now defunct bomb at their sides?

She, unlike her cheering and bowing partner, hung her head low and shy. There were more reasons for her to want to stay out of the camera's lens than just her fear she wasn't very photogenic. She groaned painfully as they made their way through the reporters to the squad truck.

"Damn," Damien grinned as he turned to wave the bomb to the camera's in a photo op. "I feel like the f'kn Eagle right now."

Princess raised her eyes to her partner and rolled them as she tugged at his black sleeve to drag him into the back of the truck. "Come on, then, Commander."

"Yup," he purred as he made a big show of her pulling him away. "I am the Eagle, and you're my pretty Swan."

She coughed.

"Oh come now, Cass. I'm just having some fun. How often do we actually get any recognition these days with G-Force being the heroes all the time."

The Squad Commander's voice boomed from over both their heads from a seat on a level set about 3 feet from the base of the truck. "Are you about done playing pretty boy, Knight?"

"Jealous?"

Princess groaned and flicked her hand as she pulled an elastic band from her hair to free it from the pony-tail. "Ignore him, Sir. He doesn't get out much."

"But we will tonight, right Cass?"

She smiled. "Too short notice for a sitter, Damien, sorry."

He groaned and swept his hand in the air to indicate the whole unit. "Cass. We disarmed a pretty ugly explosive today, we deserve to celebrate." He looked to the other members of the team. "Am I right, guys?"

His question was met with cheers of the affirmative, which caused Princess to slouch in a defeated pose. "I can't …" she whined.

"Yeah, babe. You can."

She let her eyes search the crowd of burly men and tomboy women for a moment. With a long sigh she nodded. "Because any day could be our last we've got to celebrate even the small victories." It was a chant she heard from the Commander of the unit after every assignment.

Damien slapped her on the shoulder and let out a cheer to the rest of the unit. "O'Malley's at 7, guys. Cassie's got the first round."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

The main investigations sector of the base was empty at this time of day. At fifteen minutes after 5:00pm, the official end of day for most base employees, the wing could very well have been considered abandoned – had it not been for the lone janitor quietly emptying the trash bins whilst listening to his iPod.

Mark, Jason and Lisa skidded sideways on the polished linoleum floor, one by one, as they rushed into the main forensics center of the wing. They were all excitement and grins as they each surveyed which computer system they were going to hijack for the mission.

Mark pointed first at Jason and then to the GPS mapping system, and then nodded to Lisa for her to take her pick of computers.

When each bird had taken a set and cracked their knuckles in preparation for an evening, silence suddenly filled the room.

Mark chewed on his cheek and looked to his second and sixth for assistance. "So … Where do we begin?"

Jason peered at him over the top of the monitor and shrugged. "I figured you had the plan."

Marked looked at Lisa. "Well this was your idea, Lisa, where do we start?"

She pursed her lips. "You're the tactical leader, Mark. I only come up with the suggestion, not the plan."

All three groaned simultaneously…

…they had no idea where to begin.

Jason was the first to fracture the silence with a grunt as he set his hand on top of the monitor and rose to his feet.

"I tend to think we're approaching all of this wrong."

Mark definitely agreed with that observation, but felt the need to question his Lieutenant Commander. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged in response and slowly walked in to the center of the room, where Lisa had begun to migrate. "Well, we're rushing into this like we have hints and clues and she's in Spectran hands."

Mark pursed his lips in agreement. He sighed and nodded. "We have nothing to go on, not even a list of possibles we've managed to come up with over a coffee in the strategy rooms."

Lisa tapped the ball of her foot on the floor and tilted her head questioningly at the two men in front of her. "Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"

"Take our time," Mark offered. "She's not in peril. Her life won't end because we don't get to her in time."

"Let's do this right," Jason continued for his Commander. "If we take our time; think about it; then we'll have a better plan behind us."

The three agreed silently with each other and awkwardly shuffled their feet on the floor.

It was Mark who decided to make the first tactical decision for their newest, and most important, mission.

"How about we discuss our plan of action over a beer at O'Malley's tonight?"

Jason's mouth stretched into a tight smile. He folded his arms across his chest and dropped his head to Lisa. "See, I told you he can be a brilliant decision maker when he wants to be …"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

"Here's to the best damn bomb squad unit in the galaxy," Squad Leader Dave Barron bellowed with his glass of whiskey held high over his head.

Mingling grunts of "Damn straight" sputtered from those surrounding him.

He looked down at Damien and Princess and lowered his glass to them respectfully. "And here's to the two best damned explosives technicians I've ever worked with – even if the two of you are a little TNT happy with city property."

Princess blushed, and Damien grinned at the reminder of his blowing up half the ballistics lab a little over two months ago. He winked and threw his head back to drain his glass of beer. When done, he slammed the bottom of the glass on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"G-Force eat your heart out."

Princess frowned and shook her head. "Must you always compare yourself to them, Damien?"

He smirked and flicked his hand at the waitress for another round of drinks. "Hey, for too long they took all our glory. Now that Swannie left and took away their explosives genius, we can step back in and be the heroes."

She let out a sigh. "Come on, it wasn't that bad."

Barron reached out a hand in front of her to take a sauce-covered chicken wing off the platter. "Yeah it was. We became pretty non-existent there for a while."

Damien nodded in agreement. "Talk about boring. All we were good for was a little investigation here and there and handling cherry bomb attacks in school lavatories."

Princess' eyes widened in surprise. "But investigation is our job."

Damien bit on the rim of a fresh glass of beer in an evil grin. "But you have to admit. Getting out there and feeling adrenaline and fear for your life is pretty f'kn exhilarating."

"Exhilarating," Barron echoed with a laugh. "What, that's your word for the week, Knight?"

Damien flipped the bird at him in response.

"Looks like the desk calendar vocab builder was a pretty decent Christmas gift."

Princess chuckled at the two of them, then groaned and looked at her watch. "That's it for me, guys."

"Oh no," Damien warned as he pointed at a fresh glass of tequila and Sprite in front of her. "You've got a full one there, Cass."

She shook her head and drew herself to a stand. "I'm driving, hon, and I've got a little person waiting for her mommy to come home."

Damien opened his mouth to protest further, but was halted by his squad leader raising his hand in a "stop" motion. "It's called responsibility, Knight. When you knock up the girl you've shacked up with and she pops out your spawn, you'll understand."

"Won't happen for a while, Skip. She kicked me out."

Princess' eyes widened. "Again?"

He shrugged. "Says she feels threatened by the raven haired, green eyed beauty I spend every day with."

She reddened. "Oh, gosh."

Barron sniffed. "Ignore him, Cassandra. You go home to that kid of yours. Celebrate her, Kiddo. You survived another day."

She gave him a wink and passed along her thanks to her assembled team. "Great job today, guys. See you tomorrow."

Damien took a good, long look at her rear as she pulled on a jacket and walked to the exit.

Barron noticed the look and cleared his throat in disapproval. "Don't even think about it, Knight. You know the rules, she's off limits."

His eyes slid back to his Commander. "Hey, there's no rule against looking."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

The trio of G-Forcers stood with little patience at the host's stand at the entrance to the bar. Thursday nights were typically the quiet before the storm, and never before had they had to wait for someone to take them to a table.

Jason was rather less than enthusiastic about having a quiet drink inside a bar that was obviously rowdy with celebration, but this bar was one of Lisa's favourites, and after having abandoned Jill's diner after Princess had left, this had become a regular haunt for the team. By now they were known quite well by all the staff members.

Cindy, the blonde hostess with legs that traveled up far above what could be considered completely human, greeted them with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, guys. The bar has been taken over by the local enforcement teams tonight, and it's industry only." She shrugged a shoulder and looked apologetic. "I should post signs. I've been turning people away all night."

"Damn," Mark sighed with a pout. "I really needed a drink tonight."

Cindy chewed on her cheek for a moment and looked around. With a sigh and a sudden smile, she dropped her ear toward her shoulder and pointed at an empty table toward the front of the complex. "Well technically you're industry." She waited for at least one of them to smile and picked up a handful of menus. "I'd be silly to deny G-Force a decent meal and drink."

"We really don't want to impose, Cindy," Mark offered with a smile. "We understand."

She smiled in response. "No imposition, Commander. As long as the noise doesn't bother you, I'm sure they'd appreciate your presence."

They all shrugged and followed behind as she led them to a table in the most excited section of the entire bar. Lisa was the one to question the occasion.

"So what is the celebration all about?"

Cindy set the menus on the table and lifted her head to indicate a table only a handful of feet away from them. "The Bomb unit. They managed to save the subway system and about 500 passengers this afternoon without getting killed in the process. The entire department decided to celebrate."

Lisa's eyes widened appreciatively. "Wow. Perhaps we should offer our congrats."

Jason's eyes rose to look through his brows at the table in question. There were definitely self-congratulations going on amongst a group of seven. Their ages ranged from mid-twenties to early fifties, but there seemed to me little or no generation gap nonsense among the group. Each seemed to congratulate and talk amongst each other with equal respect and commendation.

One member stood out to him more than the others. He could only see her by the top of her raven-feathered head. But there was something about the colour and glint that caught his eye. As she slowly stood and appeared to say her good-byes, his breath caught in his throat.

No. It couldn't be…

That smile was unmistakable.

Those green eyes and naturally tinted rose-coloured lips couldn't possibly exist on any other person.

Princess.

Jason could feel his heart hammer in his chest. All at once he darkened with a sense of anger and irritation at the young woman smiling at the other people seated at her table.

How dare she?

How dare she leave them all in a miserable mess and end up looking so radiant and happy.

His lip curled at the young man she was seated beside as he saw the fixated glare on Princess' ass. Only one man in this world was allowed to openly gawk at her like that, and he was sitting at the table in front of him.

Speaking of, why wasn't Mark leaping to his feet to run after Princess?

He dropped his eyes to question his Commander and demand the guy go after her only to discover he was nose-deep in the menu discussing potential meals with Lisa.

"Mark," he said harshly in an attempt to immediately garner his attention.

Mark did as he wanted and raised his head to his second. "Yeah?"

Jason's eyes shot back up to seek out Princess again, but was disappointed to see she'd vanished. His mouth opened a couple of times in confusion. Only short bursts or air escaped.

Mark's brow raised high on his forehead. "Everything okay, Jason?"

Lisa joined in on Mark's query, except she looked into the crowd to follow Jason's sweeping search. "You look like you saw a ghost or something, Jay. Everything okay?"

"I thought." He stammered as his face fell into a confused scowl. "I thought I saw …"

Mark turned to scan the crowd also, and ended up turning in to Lisa. "Probably one of those ex-girlfriends," he muttered with a grin. "One of those ones who want to give him one for being a dick."

Lisa chuckled. Jason turned a scowl on Mark. "I'm a good boyfriend, Skipper. Unlike others I can mention, I don't pull it out for …"

"Finish that sentence, Jason, and I'll kick your ass across this room."

Jason smirked dangerously. "A bar brawl, in a room full of cops? I dare you to."

"Don't tempt me, Jason."

Lisa flicked her eyes between the two men, unsure if they were serious or just playing one of their macho little games. "Uh …"

Jason sneered in challenge. "I missed training this morning, I could do with a quick round."

Mark coughed a single laugh and let his eyes fall back to the menu. "That's what you have a girlfriend for."

Lisa grunted and raised both her hands. "Hey, keep me out of this one, guys."

Mark and Jason shared a glance and both offered the civilian falcon teasing grins.

"Ahh Lisa," Jason purred as his arm slipped around her shoulder. "You'll get used to it soon enough."

She pouted. "I just want to know how to know when you two are playing or being serious."

Mark snorted. "Oh, you'll know when it's serious, Lisa. I wouldn't worry too much about that."

Jason nodded in agreement. "Yeah, usually it begins with him being thrown across the room."

Mark laughed, "yeah, you wish."

Jason grinned in preparation of snarling out a highly deserving rebuttal comment, but was interrupted by an excited, and perhaps slightly drunken, voice booming: "No. Fucking. Way!"

The three G-Forcers gasped and looked toward the voice, half preparing to jump up and break up a fight. They were surprised to see a beaming young officer leaping over the table top toward them.

"I can't f'kn believe it! G-Force!"

Jason groaned, Mark rubbed tiredly at his brow, and Lisa gave a beaming grin as Damien rushed the table and took her hand in both of his to give it a shake.

"This is so cool!" He kept hold of her hand and turned back to his table. "Look, guys. G-Force!" He turned back to Lisa with a grin. "Damn! It's good to finally meet you guys."

The table was rushed with eager officers clamouring to meet the G-Forcers, and for a moment, the entire bar melded into a mash of indecipherable yells, cheers, and exclamations.

Mark and Jason, as appreciative as they were to the admiration of the city's finest, both tiredly looked at each other in a manner to suggest that both of them were going to lynch the PR department for shattering their private identities.

Mark's glance at his second was interrupted by Damien's head emerging in between them.

"The Eagle. Damn, man. I so wish I was you sometimes!"

Mark let a single brow rise on his forehead and gave the young man a one-sided smirk. "Then let's trade-off for a day. You'll find it's really pretty boring."

"Hardly," he smirked as he plomped himself on a vacant chair beside Jason. "I live for adrenaline, man. I'd love it."

Jason smirked. "Adrenaline Junkie, eh?"

He nodded drunkenly. "Yeah, Cassie's always on my ass for my recklessness around explosive material. If it wasn't for her, shit, I'd be in about a million pieces."

Mark tilted his head with a smile. "Cassie? Your wife?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Nah, I've got far too much love and respect for the girl to do that to her."

"Girlfriend?"

Again he shook his head. "Nah, she's my partner." His eyes narrowed playfully and he waggled his brows at the G-Force Commander. "And single. You got yourself a woman yet?"

Mark choked on his glass of Whiskey. "Uh …"

Jason leaned back in his chair, folded his arms against his chest and chuckled a low laugh. "Trying to set the man up with a blind date … uh, what's your name?"

Damien extended his hand in greeting. "Knight. Damien Knight. Bomb technician with the city. Me and Cass disarmed the ugly beast in the subway this afternoon. Damn the girl's good, Condor. You guys should consider using her as a replacement for Swannie."

Lisa cleared her throat. "Uh, that would be me."

Mark grunted. "Princess wasn't replaced. You aren't a replacement, Lisa. You're a new team member." He looked back at the young officer. "And we aren't looking for anyone new at the moment."

Damien shrugged. "Yeah, well, we wouldn't let you have her, anyway." He stuttered in shock as he felt the heavy hand of his squad leader squeeze at his shoulder. "Uh, hey Sarge."

"You done with gloating about you and Anderson playing hero this afternoon?"

Jason blinked at the officer.

Anderson.

Cassie.

Yup, that confirmed it. He wasn't imagining things.

He leaned forward. "I'd like to meet your partner," he said low, ignoring the sudden glare from his girlfriend.

Damien shrugged. "Ahh, too bad. She left about ten minutes ago. She's gotto get back to the kid, ya know."

Kid?

He tilted his head sideways. "She's a mom?"

"Yeah, cute little spawnling. A girl … Uh, shit. What's her name?"

Barron sighed heavy. "Real attentive partner the poor girl has. Ignore him, he's had a little too much." He hauled Damien out of the seat. "C'mon, Knight. Get your sorry, drunken ass out of here."

Damien let out a laugh. "Amanda. That's it. Amanda."

Barron hauled the young man up over his shoulder before he could continue to embarrass the entire squad. "Excuse us, Gentlemen … Ma'am. Looks like it's time for him to go to bed."

Jason was speechless as he watched the only source of information on Princess being dragged away from them. He looked back down at his girlfriend and best friend and blinked slowly at their accusing stares. "What?"

"You feeling okay, Jase?" Mark asked slowly.

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be?"

Lisa responded on behalf of her commander. "Well. You seemed actually interested. Almost friendly."

He shrugged a shoulder. "They're on the same side as us, why shouldn't I be?"

"Cause you aren't normally."

He slipped an arm over her shoulder and flicked his eyes at the partying Bomb Squad unit. "Love changes a man, I guess."

For the second time that evening, Mark coughed on his drink. "What did you just say?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you just admit to us you're in love?"

He smiled lazily and glanced down at a smiling Lisa. "Maybe …" After a moment of silence, Jason let out a sigh. "You know, Lisa. I was thinking. If you really want to get to know explosives on a much more intimate level there's really only one place you should go."

She and Mark glanced over at the Bomb Squad. Surprising even himself, Mark found himself agreeing.

"He's right, Lisa. Noone knows them better than those guys."


	3. Chapter 3

Eighteen months out of G-Force hadn't weakened the former swan's intuition and senses at all. If anything, with the addition of her most precious bundle, she had only begun to grow stronger. She assumed that it was just another one of those side effects of motherhood. Everything; her senses, her emotional and physical strength, seemed so heightened. It was as if her implant had been given a massive upgrade.

In her most exhausted and wacky moments she referred to it as her swannie-senses tingling…

…and tingling they were right now.

It wasn't so much a sense of being watched or followed. There was no dark cloud building above her head to release a massive surge of something unpleasant. It was more of something being out of place. Something foreign that didn't belong.

That something was big, black and expensive – too expensive to be lurking in this neighborhood.

The item in question was a common vehicle in most areas of the city's outer suburbs. The 2050 Dodge Ram 3500 Mega Crew. Black as a Raven and immaculately detailed; she'd only ever seen one of them before. The owner of *that* vehicle was Shinji, Colonel Cronus' right hand wingman. As much as she hoped the owner of this truck might be him, she knew it wouldn't be.

A whisper of a vaguely familiar musky scent tickled at her nose. She tilted her head only enough to check any moving shadows behind her.

Nothing.

There was a shift in the air to her front, and she tensed in preparation for attack. "I'm armed," she warned softly into the stale air in front of her."

"And dangerous, my dear," came an equally quiet response.

All tension within her dissipated at the sound of his voice, and she grunted as she dug into her bag for the keys to her home. "Well. If you're here it can't be good."

Cronus emerged out of the shadows and leaned a shoulder against the glass door of her apartment building. "I'm not always the bringer of bad news, Princess."

Her eyes flicked to the truck across the street, now obviously identified as the one and only James "Shinji" Wilson. "You've got back-up, Sir. What other news could you be bringing?"

"Can we talk upstairs?" His eyes watched hers flick to the truck. "He's on patrol. It'll be just you and me."

She let out a sigh and nodded as she struggled with an old key in an older lock. "Sure, but please excuse the mess."

"I had a toddler once, Princess. I know …"

She shook her head. "It has nothing to do with my child, Sir. My apartment building is very old."

He followed behind, turning his nose at the various acrid smells that lingered in stale pockets of air. "I thought places like this only existed in TV shows and movies," he moaned as he removed his handkerchief from his pocket to cover his mouth.

She swallowed hard and pressed the button for the elevator. "No, Sir. They exist in real-life, too."

"But you were the Swan, Princess. You shouldn't be living like this."

She tipped her ear to her shoulder as she stepped into the elevator and pressed the tenth floor button. "I'm a single mother, Sir. There is little else I can really afford." She watched him open his mouth and cut him off with a curt: "And yes, I know. The decision to do this solo was my own choice."

"Then let me help out."

She slid her eyes in his direction. "No thank you."

"She's my grand child, Princess."

"And," she said sharply, "she has everything she needs."

"Except her father."

She shoved herself out of the elevator door before it had opened fully. Her bag caught on a jagged piece of metal and she had to grunt to pull it free. "If you're here to convince me to go back to G-Force, Cronus, I am not interested. Amanda is a lot safer if they and the rest of the world doesn't know she is."

"Princess …"

She stalked to the door and shoved her shoulder against it as she hurriedly jingled the key in the lock. "Mark has enough on his plate without me adding a kid."

"Let him decide on that."

She turned sharply to him as the babysitter quickly excused herself to leave the apartment. "Is there anything else, Colonel?" She called out to the young woman quickly slipping out the door beside them. "Thanks, Angie. How was she?"

Angie gave her a quick synopsis of the day's events with her child, and hurried off with the excuse of being late for a date.

Princess sighed in self-disgust as she set her bag and keys on a small table beside the door. "I should have told the guys I pass tonight."

Cronus closed the door behind him and leaned his rump against the door in a manner so like the Eagle Commander when he had words planned for the Swan.

"Princess, I do think it's time to talk to Mark."

"Why?" she sighed finally as she flicked on the light to reveal to the grandfather of her child the run-down apartment she currently resided in. "It's too late now."

Cronus lowered his voice to almost a whisper when he responded. "It's never too late, Princess. As much as every fibre of my being is demanding I tell you otherwise, I have to admit …" he sighed. "I think he needs the both of you."

She seemed to consider his words a moment as she slowly walked to the fridge. "Can I get you a drink?"

"At least think about it."

"For her safety, I honestly don't think I can."

"And if it's found out anyway?"

Her hand shook as she set a pitcher of water on the counter. "It won't happen." Her eyes flashed with fear as she looked up at Cronus. "I won't allow it to happen."

"You seem unsure about that."

"Of course I'm unsure!" she spat in her own frustration in herself. "God, Cronus. If you can find me, who knows who else can?"

"Then get protection, Princess." He approached her and set his hands on her shoulders. "Mark will defend the you of two with his life, you know that."

"And I also know he doesn't need the distraction right now." She backed away from him and leaned on straightened arms on the counter. "Which is why I can't go to him. He has so much more to worry about."

"There is nothing more important."

She had to laugh at the comment. "Says you; the man who abandoned his wife and son right when they needed you the most."

His lip curled. "You know the reason I left, Princess. Don't accuse me of abandoning them. I was always there for Mark."

"Not in the way he needed you though…"

He swallowed the words that wanted to explode from his mouth, and instead countered with a quiet. "At least I had the choice to be there or not."

She sighed. "It's not the same thing."

"Yes it is, Princess. You left him for the same reason my Amanda kicked me out." He frowned and tilted his head at her. "Or is that why you're staying away? Because you haven't forgiven him for that."

She groaned and dropped down into a seat. "No. I forgave him for that the moment I saw the regret in his eyes when I left."

"Yet you left…"

She nodded and clenched shut her eyes to prevent the fall of tears. "Something told me I had to go, Colonel." She pointed in the direction of the child's room. "I suppose I subconsciously knew she was coming."

"He'll kill himself over not being there for you."

"I know."

"He still loves you."

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and inhaled sharply to compose herself. "And I, him. More than I ever have."

"Then, please …"

The urgency in his voice gave her an uneasy warning. She cut to the chase with a sudden, wide-eyed query. "Why now, Sir? What has happened that drew you out of the shadows to convince me to go back to Mark."

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"You're lying."

He stared at her for a long moment. Her eyes bore into him in frightened curiosity.

"Princess …" he sighed. "Anson and Melissa get out of jail in a few days."

She frowned in confusion. "They aren't really a threat, Colonel. They don't concern me."

"They should."

Her head tilted. "Why?"

He grunted. "I don't yet have all of the intel. Anderson suggests that you and yours are a target."

"So he sent you here?"

Cronus shook his head. "He doesn't know about Amanda."

She gasped. "But how …?"

"You saved my life, Princess. I wasn't going to let you walk out unprotected." He sighed. "I had my guys keep a close eye on you."

She groaned. "All of them?"

"A select few."

"And the Chief?"

"He doesn't know, Princess. If he did, Mark would have been here inside an hour." He took a seat beside her.

"And what makes you think Anson can?"

"Like you said. If I can find out where you are, so can they." He took her hand in his. "Princess, you know they have Spectran ties. If they get their technology, with their already extensive knowledge of all of you, who knows …"

She nodded. "I understand. But …"

Her voice and eyes implored him for more time. "I know, Princess. Look. Let my boys keep an eye on you in the meantime. You've got a few days until they're released."

She nodded and sighed a quiet word of thanks.

He slowly stood to leave and dropped a familiar communicator on the table in front of her. "I'll be around. Just call me."

She coughed and looked up at him through tear-stained eyes. "I just need time to know what to say to him. He's going to be so mad."

He rubbed at her shoulder and gave it a short squeeze. "We're here as long as it takes."

"As long as it isn't too long, right?"

He nodded. "At some point I will intervene. I'd rather he hear it from you than me."

She collapsed into her arms and nodded her agreement as she burst into tears.

And as quickly as Cronus had reentered her world, he was gone again. He closed the door to her sobbing and leaned back against it for one moment before peeling himself away.

"I may have messed up with him, Princess," he whispered gruffly. "I'm not going to with her."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Anderson surveyed the threesome in front of them over the rims of his glasses. He continued to slowly

chew the mouthful of tuna sandwich and wiped at the corner of his mouth with his fingertip as he raised his head to them and swallowed.

"You want me to authorize what?"

Mark pressed his hands into the table in front of the Chief of Security and smiled. "I think it's a great idea."

"You're joking, right?"

Mark shook his head. "It makes sense. Lisa could use the extra knowledge those guys could give her, and it would be fantastic PR to have G-Force working alongside the Law Enforcement teams."

Anderson put his half-eaten sandwich on his plate and eyed it longingly as he leaned his forearms on the table. "And this was so important to you that you couldn't wait until after I'd eaten?"

Lisa smiled and slouched a hip to one side as she flicked her eyes at Jason. "We have to get to you when we can."

Anderson let out a long sigh. "There are so many things wrong with this idea I hardly know where to begin."

"Then just pick the first one in your mind and let us rebut."

His brow raised at the newest G-Forcer, and he turned his attention to the team Commander. "Mark. Care to tell me why this seems so important to you?"

He tilted his head and drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. "I think it is a good training routine for Lisa. She could do with the latest information."

"Which she can get from our own training teams."

"But they don't know what is currently out there."

Anderson shook his head and gave in to temptation by taking another bite of his sandwich, he responded to Mark with a mouthful of tuna, lettuce, tomato, mayo and bread. "Yes they do. They have a direct link up to the Bomb Squad computers. Every case they investigate is immediately uploaded via Zark into our computers."

Mark pursed his lips. "How quickly is this intel gathered, Chief? And how intimate is this information?"

Anderson swallowed. "Whatever the Bomb unit reports is what we have, Commander."

His grin turned cheeky. "But do they get to see the bomb through the eyes of the investigators? Do they see the construction and the intricacies? Do they know the sweat and worry and thought processes of the one disarming the weapon?"

Anderson groaned. "Oh, God, Mark. You have to give me a more viable reason than that if you want me to authorize you to engage in competition time with the local teams."

"This isn't a competition. This is training for our team."

Anderson raised a glass of V-8 juice to his mouth and drew in a long mouthful. "Don't you think for a second they won't treat it as such."

Mark pulled himself up to a stand and threaded his thumbs into his belt. "I think they'd extend professional courtesy and be thrilled to work with Lisa."

"No."

Jason stepped up beside Mark and folded his arms across his chest. With Anderson seated at the cafeteria table, he had the advantage of being able to tower above him. "I'm with Mark. I think Lisa can get some damn good experience working with them. She needs some more training, Chief. Who better to teach her than people who actually work with this stuff?"

"I ask that you give our team a little more credit than that, Jason," the Chief snorted in response. "They are equally qualified and spend most of their time pouring over the latest intel we receive."

"And of the entire squad, only one has ever actually worked Bomb Squad. And he only lasted twenty months because he got his hand blown off on the job."

Anderson raised an offended brow. "Respect, Jason. Have you ever heard of that term?"

He leaned his palms on the table and leered with a curled lip at the project leader. "She needs hands on experience, and she ain't getting it here."

Anderson flicked his eyes between the two G-Force leaders. "Why is this so damn important to you three? What is it that you're not telling me?"

Lisa shrugged with wide eyes and a genuine innocence. Mark rolled his eyes, but was honest when he said: "No reason. I just thought it would be a great opportunity for her to get more hands on."

Anderson's eyes rose to Jason, who had retracted into his own little space. The man said nothing and didn't look at any of the other three.

This was intriguing to the Chief of Security. He pursed his lips and tilted his head as he removed his glasses. "Before I submit to any of this, I want a typed official request on my desk that is signed by the head of the explosives training unit."

Mark gave a firm nod. "Will do, Chief." He slid his eyes to Lisa and nodded for her to follow him. "Let's get to work on that now, then. Shall we?"

Her eyes glittered as she nodded. "Sure, Commander."

The trio prepared to jog off, but was interrupted by Anderson's Stern: "Jason, a word."

The man in question raised his head and groaned as Mark chuckled but continued on his way. "Catch you guys later," he called after them before dropping his gaze to Anderson. "What did I do now?"

Anderson was quick to get to the point. "Spill it."

"Spill what?"

"I take it this whole Bomb Squad idea was yours?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah, so?"

"Why?"

He shrugged. "She could do with the training. I don't want to get blown up on a mission because she doesn't know what she's doing."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. Lisa is more than capable." He lowered his head to gaze at Jason through his brows. "Now tell me the truth or I will veto this whole thing."

Jason curled a lip, looked around the room, and lowered his voice a few decibels. "Princess."

"Come again?"

"Princess is on the squad."

Anderson raised his head and both brows. His voice took on a tone of extreme interest, and perhaps a little excitement. "Is this confirmed?"

"About as much as it can be, Chief. I saw her with my own eyes, and she's going by the name Cassie Anderson." He shrugged. "Not much more proof is needed if you ask me."

"And she asked you to do this?"

He gave a laugh. "Hardly."

He sat back in his chair and put his glasses back on. "Then I'm not sure if this is such a good idea. I don't think she'd appreciate the lot of you suddenly appearing on her doorstep."

"Chief…"

"I mean. If she wanted back, she'd come to us herself." He folded his arms and looked down at the table. "We really have no need or reason to invade her life like this."

"Yeah, we do, Chief."

Anderson raised his eyes to Jason. "You mean Anson and Melissa's release, yes?"

Jason's mouth gaped. "They're getting out?"

"Thursday."

Jason shook his head. "Then we gotto get there and make sure she's safe, Chief. That asshole Anson has already said he's going to go after her. And his dog ass lawyer can deny it all he wants but she and he are Spectran goons."

"The team, Jason. He intimated that the team is in danger, not specifically Princess."

"And what is the best way to get at us? Through Mark. Destroy Mark, destroy G-Force." He huffed, "and to get Mark …"

"You hurt Princess." He clicked in a small amount of air through his teeth. "I'm sure Princess will be able to protect herself, Jason. If she is with Law enforcement, she'll have…."

"There's more, Chief. More you don't know about – at least I damn well hope you don't." he interrupted gently.

"Which is?"

Jason took a deep breath. "Mark's kid."

Anderson coughed. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me."

Anderson blinked and shook his head. "No. I don't think I did."

"She didn't leave because of what happened with Mark, Chief. She was pregnant."

Anderson shook his head and waved his finger through the air as if in total disbelief and was seeking clarification. "This is confirmed? Are you sure the child is his??"

He actually seemed a little defensive. "She's no slut, Chief. I know you aren't accusing her of jumping straight into another man's bed."

Anderson groaned painfully, but nodded. "Oh, Hell." He dropped his forehead into his palm. "How many of you know this?"

"Just me."

"And she knows you know?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I got the info from her Partner last night at the bar."

Anderson tilted his head and frowned. "So, what? You're all hanging with the Bomb Squad now?"

No," Jason answered as he stole a potato chip from Anderson's plate. "Just happened to bump into them at the bar. They were celebrating the Subway thing."

Anderson's eyes shot open. "Princess was on that assignment?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Dammit." Anderson bellowed as his fist hit the table immediately alarming all in the cafeteria. He cleared his throat and waved to the sudden audience to tell them all was okay. He lowered his voice to Jason. "I should have known by the intel that it was Princess."

Jason frowned. "How?"

"Oh who else could decipher that explosive. The execution of the threat had Princess written all over it."

"You read the reports?"

He shook his head. "That one was put on my desk for analysis. Suspected Spectran, I suppose."

"Was it?"

"No. Just an amateur with big dreams. But it was just …" he inhaled long. "The only person who could have diffused that one was Princess."

"Then what do we do?"

Anderson pursed his lips. He tapped his fingertips on the table and cradled his chin in his hand. "Let me discuss with Cronus."

"What? Why the Hell do we pull him in?"

Anderson's gaze rose to meet Jason's. "For her protection I've had him watching over her since she left. He knows everything about what she's doing and where she is, I'll get confirmation from him."

"How come he knows and you don't?"

"I specifically requested that he tell me nothing."

Jason curled a lip. "If he knew about the kid, why didn't he tell Mark?"

Anderson shrugged. "I don't know."

"Asshole. When I get my hands on him …"

"For now," he interrupted sharply before Jason could make the full threat. "I will send Lisa in. But she goes in alone. I don't want you … or Mark … anywhere near the lab, precinct, or anywhere Princess has to be. I also want total silence on your part. You don't say a word to anyone about this." He saw a small grin on Jason's face and realized the Condor may have found a loophole. "Tiny and Keyop are banned from the project, too, Jason. Don't you think I don't know what you're planning."

He gasped in faux innocence. "Huh?"

"You and Lisa and Tiny might keep this secret, but I know Keyop. There is no way he'll keep it quiet, so don't even think about it." He slowly drew himself to a stand. "The less of you that know …"

"Lisa will figure it out, you know."

"Then brief her. But only tell her what she needs to know, nothing more."

Jason nodded. "Good enough."

He turned his back to Jason and stalked toward the door. "Tell Lisa she starts with the Bomb Unit in the morning. I'll arrange everything."

Jason smirked in self-satisfaction. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was close enough. "Chief," he called after Anderson, who stopped and turned to give the condor a tired look.

"What?"

"Thank you."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

One thing Mala had to admit, was that the visitation rooms of the female penitentiary outside of the city was actually quite clean. She had expected something a little less maintained, like in the films she'd watched in her youth when studying all that was Earth.

Earth cinema was obviously much more fiction than fact.

She took a seat at a small booth and checked her complexion in a small compact mirror while she waited for Melissa to take a seat on the other side of the glass. On her immediate left was an attractive young brunette who appeared to stand guard, and on her right, a tall man with corn-blonde hair set in a braid. He wore black sunglasses and purple driving gloves, and seemed disgusted at even the very thought of touching anything in the room.

Mala paid him no attention as Melissa, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and sockless running shoes, took a seat at the glass. She waited for her to pick up the black telephone handset from the wall, and then took her own after wiping it with her handkerchief.

"Melissa, you look well."

Melissa smirked, looking into her reflection on the glass rather than the woman beyond it. "As well as can be expected when you're the one in jail for screwing around with the Eagle."

"Lovely choice of words, young lady."

Melissa shrugged and picked at her teeth, still unwilling to look beyond her own reflection. "I didn't say 'screwed' the Eagle."

"Although you did a delightful job of convincing the Swan of such."

Melissa shrugged. "That was what you wanted. And considering the man is my brother, it is better that I didn't."

Mala grinned through glossy red lips in response. "Yes, A delightful development."

Melissa tilted her head, finally looking through the glass at the Spectran ruler's sister. "So what do you want with me?"

"I would have thought the answer to that was obvious."

She sighed and rolled her eyes as she repeated the phrase her rehabilitation officers had drilled into her repeatedly in her 12 months of incarceration. "I am rehabilitated now. I will no longer hold any ill-will toward, nor attempt to humiliate or attack…"

"That's a line of bullshit, and you know it."

Melissa smiled thinly, her eyes narrowed almost seductively. "It's what got me out of here in record time. Thank you, by the way, for scheduling an attack during my parole hearing. Not having Mark there to destroy my application helped a lot."

"And now we call on the favour you now owe."

Melissa blinked slowly as her face fell into neutrality. "Anson is on board?"

"Your boyfriend is more than a willing soldier."

She hummed low in response.

Mala continued. "We feel it's time for you to try and mend fences with your family."

She raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"The Eagle is duty bound, and inherently good. If his long-lost sister was to try and become a part of his life, to reform to good and …"

Melissa interrupted with a shake of her head. "He's not a moron, Mala. He will know the second I show my face that I am not wanting to play happy family with him."

"But you will try?"

She laughed. "And end up in here again? My conditions of parole forbid me to come within 250 feet of him or the Federation."

The man behind Mala spoke up. "Isn't that a risk you're willing to take for the people who got you out of here to begin with?"

Melissa gasped at the voice; she'd know it anywhere. "Lord Zoltar." It took control not to lower her head at him in respect. "I wish I could say it's an honour."

He watched her eyes flick nervously to each guard, wondering if they had any inkling as to who they had in their visitation rooms. "They are none-the-wiser, young Melissa."

"For you I do hope so."

He flicked his hand and shrugged a shoulder. "I have back-up. Even if your brother was to burst in here with his team, I would still escape…"

"Can we not call him that, My Lord?"

The side of his mouth twitched in a smile. "As you wish."

She raised her head high and rubbed at the back of her neck. "Why aren't you targeting the Swan instead of him?"

"We are unable to find her at this time."

She lowered her head and smirked. "And you say your intelligence spies are second to none?"

Zoltar growled low, but Mala was the one to respond. "It would serve you well to show some respect, Melissa. You life hangs in our balance."

Melissa raised her hand to ask for silence. "I know where she is, Mala."

Both Zoltar and Mala's brows rose in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You have spies only in the Federation. Anderson is aware of leaks and has probably asked that Cronus not give him any information as to her whereabouts. She is safe only if G-Force don't know where she is."

Zoltar seemed eager for more information as he scooched Mala off the seat so that he may sit. "And you have managed to gain this information, Melissa?"

She nodded. "I still have contacts in the Rangers who believe me to be innocent in all this." Her tongue swept across her drying lips. "I know far more than anyone at all in the Federation."

Zoltar licked at his own lips, excited by the new development. "Where is she? I owe that little bitch a slow and painful demise."

"Uh-uh," Melissa sang with a wave of her finger. "Not so fast. There is more you should know, Lord Zoltar. There are other, more painful, ways of making her suffer."

He smirked, "such as?"

She blinked slowly and purred low. "Did you know I'm an aunt?"


	4. Chapter 4

Her second day with the S.W.A.T. and Bomb Response units, and Lisa was officially becoming bored. Anderson was right, there was little that these teams could teach her that she didn't already know – but she'd never openly admit that to him, of course.

There had been many tales of bravery, loss and heroism from the various technicians. The tales had endeared them to her and given her a deeper respect for the jobs that these individuals had done, so it hadn't been a total waste.

The one technician she was chomping at the bit to meet, however, had yet to make an official appearance.

Princess.

The Swan.

Gosh, there weren't enough words to express how excited, thrilled and nervous she was to finally meet her. Her prowess, beauty and brilliance were legendary throughout the Federation networks. Even after her abrupt departure, which should have been the very beginning of gossip and speculation, there was nothing but respect shown to her. There was nary a whisper of gossip or wonder about her leaving. There was only shock and sadness; she'd been the heart of the project and was immediately missed by all.

Lisa had been, perhaps, her biggest admirer. Her training had begun three years before the Swan had left G-Force. She'd spent hours, days and months studying her every move. She'd poured over her reports and papers. She'd become a better soldier because of her.

She wanted to be like her…

…And now for the opportunity to meet her – How devastatingly thrilling.

When Jason had taken her aside to give her the "assignment", she'd responded with squeals of excitement. He'd made her promise not to tell Mark, or any of the team about it and instructed her to inform he and Chief Anderson about anything – especially how the young woman was doing.

She was disappointed, to say the very least, that she had yet to meet her.

So today, midway through her second day, she stood leaning against the doorway to the ballistics lab listening to Princess' partner regale her with a story about how he blew up this part of the lab testing out the new mix of explosive materials that were being used by the more "experienced" bomber.

"Anyway, Lisa. So there I was, lying on the floor with my ass in the air. Cass was wedged in the corner of what was left of the room trying everything she could not to laugh at me with my pants blown off and my naked ass on display…"

Lisa smirked if only to feign complete attentiveness. She was listening to everything he said and was mildly amused and interested to hear about the antics of the now civilian Swan, but she was more distracted in her search for the elusive woman after being told she would be in this morning, if not late because of family commitments.

Her patience was finally rewarded as the front doors opened to reveal the woman in question.

Lisa had to bring her hand to her mouth in a gasp. She was stunning; every bit the legend she'd heard so much about.

Princess' hair was the sleek black with peacock-green shimmer highlights that was so unique to her. It was longer than the old photographs of her showed, with each ended curl now kissing at the curve of her back. Her dark glasses held her hair from her face and revealed the greenest set of eyes she'd ever seen.

Princess wore a tight pair of low-rise stretch jeans with black 3" heeled boots. Atop the very elaborately decorated belt buckle was a navel decorated with a piercing blue stone peeking out from under a tight tank-top.

She was still in immaculate physical shape, and her perfectly sculpted abs forced Lisa to cover her own.

The Swan was most definitely everything the rumors said she was. She held no wonder why Mark was in love with her.

She watched as Princess set her travel-mug of coffee on the reception desk and signed herself in. She was surprised, somewhat, by her small stature. Standing at about 5'7", she seemed a lot less imposing that one would expect. With Mark standing close to 6'1", they must have made the most beautiful couple. She was at the perfect height to be able to nestle herself securely in his chest.

Her heart hammered sympathetically inside her chest. She wanted so much to call her Commander and tell him to come and collect the woman he loved; but knew she couldn't.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Damien's sudden, explosive, cheer for his partner.

"Hey! Cass! Come and see who dropped in for visit!"

Princess was all smiles as she spun to the sound of her partner's voice. She took a couple of steps forward and the smile faltered as her face fell in to uneasy recognition of the woman standing beside him. She slowed mid-step and paused. Her head tilted slowly in a defensive gesture that warned she was ready to run.

Lisa abruptly put an end to the urge to run by rushing her. She took Princess' right hand in both of hers and shook it excitedly. "Cassandra Anderson. My goodness, I have heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Princess pulled back a little, obviously alarmed. Her eyes flicked from side to side as she stammered her own hello.

Lisa maintained a smile and continued to introduce herself. "My name is Lisa, and I am the Falcon on the G-Force team. Chief Anderson has arranged for me to spend some time with this department in order to ensure we have our information coordinated and updated with each other."

Princess blinked slowly. "I know who you are," she said softly, the wideness in her eyes telling Lisa that she knew her cover was busted. "And the rest of your team?"

Damien answered for Lisa. "Ah, we only got the good looking one. The rest of 'em aren't as qualified to play with us as she is."

Princess seemed to relax a little at that and turned her attention to her partner as she removed her hand from Lisa's. "I thought the Swallow was an explosives tech as well?"

Lisa nodded. "Yes he is, but the Condor and the Chief preferred that only the one of us come. And I could do with the extra knowledge you can offer me."

Princess blinked slowly. "I see. And the Eagle?"

"He signed off on the assignment, but … uh … the Condor was the one to arrange the meeting."

Princess expelled a displeased breath. She made a mental note to castrate Cronus the next time she saw him for lying so blatantly to her about Anderson's knowledge to her whereabouts. "So we won't see the rest of the team, then?"

Lisa licked at her lips. "If you'll see any of them, Detective Anderson …"

"Call Me Cassandra, please."

"Yes, Cassandra. If you see any of them, perhaps it will be Jason."

Princess sighed and tugged the strap of her handbag up onto her shoulder. "Actually, that might be nice."

Lisa's eyes widened. "Really? I can call him now if you like."

Damien had to laugh. "Hey, careful, Lisa. You don't want to bring your boyfriend out here, she's hot and she's single, you just might end up getting a run for your money."

Lisa laughed and set her hands on her hips. "What, are you saying I'm not woman enough?"

Damien raised his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, I walked right in to that one!" He winked and turned his attention to Princess. "Cass, hon. Sarge wants you to take care of our special visitor today. He reckons there's a few things you and she can work through with the Subway bomb that the Federation doesn't know about yet."

Princess frowned. "But I have about ten cases on the go right now, Damien. I don't have a lot of time to …"

"Hey," he smirked with a nonchalant shrug. "Orders are orders, Cass."

Princess nodded. "Okay, if you don't mind being bored out of your mind, Lisa. I'm not exactly a fascinating tech with exciting stories like these guys."

Lisa smiled, "oh, I doubt that."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Princess deliberately said nothing as she strode beside Lisa towards her section of the lab. She wasn't trying to be rude, she was just unsure of what was going on around her to have invited G-Force back into her life. She chose to cut right to the chase once they were behind closed doors.

She leaned back against the evidence bench and pressed her hands onto the cold stainless steel behind her. "So why were you sent here?"

Lisa attempted to appear innocent and shrugged. "To learn?"

Princess lowered her head and smiled. "You immediately look guilty when you answer a question with a question."

Lisa groaned. "I know, and I know I should be in better control of my nerves, but damn. I'm in the same room as the Swan. I'm, like, your biggest fan."

Princess' eyes rose slowly to her replacement. "Thanks, but …" she sighed. "Am I in danger? Is my daughter?"

"Daughter?" Lisa coughed out in surprise. "There's a child in this? Jason didn't tell me you were a mom" She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "So that's why you left?"

Princess shook her head. "No, I didn't leave because of that. I didn't find out until after I'd left G-Force behind that I was pregnant."

"And you didn't tell Mark?"

She shakily lifted her hand to slide her sunglasses out of her hair. "How could I? I walked out on him after…" she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side in regret. "I couldn't exactly walk back in to his life and saddle him with a kid."

She took a tentative step toward Princess, but stopped when she watched her eyes flicker in warning. "You can still go to him, Princess. He misses you. He needs you. Geez, two days ago he, Jason and I began to go covert to find you."

"Which you were obviously successful at."

"Huh?"

"Well, here you are."

Lisa smirked. "Chance encounter, really. We just happened to end up at the same bar as you guys. Jason thought he saw you, then Damien confirmed it."

Princess bit at her cheek. "So who knows?"

Lisa closed the distance between them and took up a similar position against the bench beside her. "Jason, the Chief and myself."

Princess turned her head to Lisa. "Not Mark?"

"He'd be the one here if he did."

She sniffed and nodded. "God, I miss him."

"Then go to him."

She shook her head and peeled herself from the bench. Her voice steadied. "No. I can't. Too much time has passed. He's better without us."

"He'd argue about that."

Princess was silent for a long moment in response. When she did speak it was in a low and serious voice. "So why were you sent here?"

"To make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay, thank you."

Lisa watched as Princess began to absently pace in front of her. "Jason's worried about you. With the twosome being released in a few days, we need to make sure you're secure and taken care of."

Princess had to laugh. "Lisa, they are only two screwed up individuals. I am pretty sure I can defend myself against them. Hell, I used to come up against groups of Spectran goons all the time."

"It's different when you're out of shape and have no weapons. Add to that a young baby and you can't do it alone."

Princess narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her. "Do I look out of shape to you? I'll have you know that I spend three hours a day working on my old training programs, as well as keeping up to date with any and all available information about the Spectran movement." She set her hands on her hips in an authoritative movement. "Just because I don't wear the uniform anymore doesn't mean I am not up to date on the latest developments. Swan or not, I know I am still a target."

"And if a squad of goons runs through your home? With the baby? What then?"

"I have the protection of the Rangers, Lisa. Cronus has round the clock surveillance on my home at any given time."

Lisa's eyes widened as if insulted. "You would rather have them on hand than your own team; than the father of your child?"

Princess lowered her head and coughed to fight off a tear. "I had no choice in the matter. Cronus insisted."

"How did he know to find you?"

"You'd have to ask the Chief about that."

Lisa frowned. "You say the Rangers know your whereabouts?"

She nodded. "Cronus confirmed it when he visited me a couple of nights ago."

"Dammit." She raised her communicator to her mouth. "G-6 to G-2, Jase, are your ears on?"

Princess gasped and roughly pushed Lisa's wrist from her mouth. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Jason."

"No. I want all of you to just leave me be. I'm fine, we're fine."

Lisa was insistent. "No. You don't understand. Keyop and I have been monitoring the comings and going of Melissa and Anson's visitors. Melissa has had constant meetings with Rangers pilots since she first went in."

Jason interrupted anything further by answering his page with a gruff. "Yeah, Lisa. What ya got?"

Princess covered the faceplate of Lisa's communicator. "No, Lisa, please. Not yet. Let me find out …"

Lisa's lips curled as she yanked her wrist out of Princess' grip. "Her last visit was with a group we are sure were Spectran. I'm not risking you or the baby."

Jason's voice muffled into the conversation. "Lisa? Everything okay?"

It was ignored. "Lisa, no. I trust Cronus to keep my information as secret as possible. Only his most trusted will know where I am."

"And if you recall, Anson and Melissa were on that list before all this."

"Not to Cronus."

Jason's voice became more urgent. "G-6 respond. That's an order."

"Yeah, Jason, just wait. Princess is being difficult."

Princess' eyes pleaded. "Lisa, please."

Jason was heard to gasp. "Princess? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, Jason. She's fine and being as bull-headed as you normally are."

Princess moaned and flopped into a chair. "This is not happening. Not now."

Jason called to his former teammate. "Princess, come on. It's me. Talk to me."

Lisa frowned at her slumped form and answered her assignment leader. "Jase," she sighed heavily. "We should probably leave her alone."

"Hell no, Lisa. Not until I know …"

"I'm fine!" Princess snapped finally, lifting her own communicator to her lips. "Message to G-Force, Rangers, and everyone else. I'm fine. I can look after myself. I don't need anyone's help. Now, leave me the Hell alone!" She ripped the only contact she had with Cronus and the team from her wrist and hurled it at the floor, stomping on it as she pulled open the door to leave. "I left, remember. Now for God's sake, let me go."

Lisa gasped and cursed at herself as she watched the door slam behind Princess. Mark's voice was the first to respond to the broadband demand from the former Swan.

"Princess?"

Lisa screwed up her nose and dropped her forehead on the wall as calls from more than one G-Forcer began to echo through her bracelet. "God, what have I done?"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Princess didn't know where she was running, she just knew she had to. She had to just trust her legs to take her as far away from her precinct as was possible.

Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone?

Didn't the team realize that by hunting her down and harassing her that they were putting her in more danger? Of course Zoltar and his cronies at Spectra were going to monitor their every move in order to find her. Regardless of whether or not she was a part of G-Force, she was still their weakness.

Dammit! They should have just forgotten all about her. She wasn't worth it!

She ran hard, wiping at tears with the back of her hand.

Eighteen months she had spent trying to forget them. Eighteen months of heartache and sacrifice, struggle and hardship. How dare they come back into her life when she had finally gotten them all out of her system.

In her tear blinded state, the normally coordinated G-Force Swan stumbled over her own feet. She yelped as she tripped and fell to the ground on her hip. There was a crack as the side of her head hit the ground.

Her crying intensified as she clumsily propped her upper body up by extending her arms and pressing her hands into the concrete. Her head hung low and ached as her body shook violently. The fall, and the dull ache in her head heightened as she finally let loose every emotion she'd been building since walking out of G-Force eighteen months earlier.

It wasn't until she heard the shuffle of several feet ahead of her, and the familiar clack of a home-made weapon that she allowed her instinct to take over and calm her. She raised her head slowly and searched through her bangs at the obvious threat ahead of her.

It came in the form of a gang of young men, a mixture of Hispanic, Black and White, all in their early twenties, and all looking to take down this badly downtrodden young woman.

She didn't even flick her hair from her eyes as she demanded in the lowest and most dangerous voice possible, "get away from me."

One of the men, a black youth with a half afro, half mohawk hairdo, stepped forward and stooped forward to leer at her. "Give me all of your money."

She drew herself to a crouch and continued to stare through messy bangs at him. "Go and earn your own," she snarled in response.

He laughed and thumbed at her as he looked back at his posse. "Oh she thinks she's a tough one."

"I am," she purred. "So back off."

The entire group of men began to laugh loudly. A young white man who dressed as though he was a pimp pulled a sizeable pocketknife from his belt and held it in her face. "Want to play, little girl?"

Urged on by frustration, fear and anger, she snapped. With a single flick of her wrist, she had the young man on his knees, his wrist in her hand and she towering above him. Her grip was tight, and the young man could do little but grunt in pain as he demanded his boys come to his aid.

Seven other men surrounded her, all armed with a variety of cheap, but effective, weapons.

Princess could hear laughs and jeers, and immediately green filled her vision. She could feel the stares, leers and general muskiness of a hundred Spectran goons.

"You won't take me," she growled as she stepped back from the goon in her hold and rounded her arm for transmutation. "G-Force transmute!"

Nothing.

There was no flashing lights; no haunting honk of the Swan, and no sudden draft of wind catching at the hemline of her miniskirt. But there was laughter.

She searched her pockets for her yo-yo and found no weapon.

"Look at her," she heard through the haze. "She thinks she's the Falcon! Here, little birdie …"

Reality snapped again as she stepped back and shook her head to clear her mind.

There weren't any Spectrans. There were just thugs. Thugs that taunted and poked at her lithe little body.

"Where's the Eagle, where's the Condor?" the boys taunted.

"Right here, asshole," a voice familiar to Princess answered.

She looked to her side to see the wings of the Condor float down softly beside her. Jason stepped half in front of her and folded his arms across his chest.

"You've got exactly three seconds to fuck off and leave my girlfriend alone, or I kick your sorry asses into Hell."

He didn't even get to the end of the threat before the alleyway cleared of petty thugs. Immediately, he turned to check if Princess was okay.

"Princess, Baby, you okay?"

She pouted out her bottom lip and shook her head as she leapt at him and threw her arms around his neck. "Why didn't you guys just leave me be?"

He returned her embrace and let a tear streak down his cheek as she shuddered in his hold. "Because we couldn't."

"I didn't need you," she whimpered softly, trying to be argumentative but speaking too softly for it to be effective.

"No, but we needed you."

She rolled her head against his shoulder so that she faced the center of his chest. "I'm not in danger, Jason. Why don't you guys get it?"

"Yes you are, Prin."

She dropped her hands to circle them around his waist. To the rear of them she could see the black silhouette of the Falcon quietly approaching. She kept her eyes on the figure as she spoke. "I'm safe, Jason. They won't come after me … Not if you guys just stay away."

He smoothed her hair from her face and lightly stroked her hair. "Just humour us. Don't forget the babe, Prin."

She pulled back and slowly drew her hands from him before letting them fall to her sides. Her gaze was still on Lisa as she paused a respectful distance away from Jason and Princess. "Please tell me Mark won't be the next one dropping in."

Jason shook his head and extended an arm to her. "Please come with us, Prin. Let us set you and the kid up in a safehouse until we know you'll be safe."

One hand flew to her hip and the other rose up over her brow and into her hair. "Melissa and Anson are only two people, Jase. Two people. I am not threatened by them. They can do no more than be pains in my ass."

"If they have ties to Spectra …"

"Then I'll deal with it." She rubbed at her aching skull and groaned. "I need to sit down."

"Are you okay?"

She shrugged and took a seat on an upturned milk crate. "I just banged my head, that's all. No need to send me off to med. or anything."

"Are you sure?"

Her look answered him without words – she was irritated beyond belief.

He crouched in front of her and set his hand on her knee. "I'm sorry Princess, but you left us without a word. We are all worried about you, your safety … how you're doing."

"I'm okay," she sighed before she looked up at him. "I do miss you guys so much, though."

"Then come home."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

She shook her head and dropped her head to her knees. "I just can't."

He circled his arms around her collapsed body and dropped to a knee in a protective portrait.

From her vantage point, Lisa covered her mouth with her hand. She knew from experience that the Condor had a tender side, but until today she'd never fully understood just how gentle the most fearsome of the G-Force team could really be.

It broke her heart.

She stepped back into the shadows and raised her communicator to her mouth…

She needed to talk to the G-Force Commander. She needed to make sure he was given the choice that Princess was denying him.

Mark needed to know…

…And he needed to know, now.


	5. Chapter 5

Mark was lounging on a swinging chair on his front porch, wearing a light pair of blue jeans and tight white muscle shirt when Lisa arrived. He had a glass of iced-tea beading with condensation on a small rickety table beside the chair waiting for her arrival. He pointed to it as she climbed the small flight of stairs onto the patio.

"Sorry to have to bother you on your day off, Commander," she muttered softly as she leaned against the rust-red iron railing of the patio. "Nice place."

He sighed tiredly as he leaned his elbow on the armrest of his chair and let his ear settle into his hand. "It's no bother, Lisa. I'm always here if you guys need to talk, you know that."

She thrust her hands in her pocket and looked awkwardly around as she tried to find the easiest way of giving him the news. She stuttered and cleared her throat numerous times, but was unable to find her voice.

He watched her closely with his head still lazily in his hand as she struggled to speak. He knew without a doubt that whatever she had to tell him was tearing her apart. It was concerning, so he decided to prompt her with random topical questions to draw it from her. "Are you and Jason having problems?"

Her eyes widened and she coughed, "uh, no, Mark. Well, at least not right now. I can't say that after I've spoken to you there won't be a problem or two."

His eyes narrowed as he attempted to read her uneasiness, the source of which was completely absent from her expression. He found it was frustrating. "You know, Lisa. When I struggle to find the words I need to say, I stop looking."

She looked at him and tilted her head. "Excuse me?"

He sat up, crossed his legs and the knee and folded his arms as he leaned back in the chair. "Sometimes it's just better to spit it out exactly as it enters your mind. Disjointed or not, it gets the problem out, and ends up making much more sense than carefully chosen phrases."

She smiled with thinly closed lips. "But does it make the impact any less hurtful?"

The question immediately concerned him and his face fell into a frown in response. "Have I done anything to upset you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Jason? Tiny? Keyop? The Chief?"

"No. No. No and no."

He sighed hard and leaned forward, pressing his forearms into one knee to try and appear more relaxed than he currently was. "What's on your mind, Lisa," he said softly, "and how can I help you feel less tense about it?"

She screwed up her face and scratched both hands heavily though her hair. "God, Mark. I just don't know how to tell you this."

"Are you pregnant?"

Her eyes flared in shock and she shook her head violently. "Oh, Hell no. No. No. No. Jase and I are far too careful to let anything like that happen."

"Then tell me, just open your mouth and spit it out."

One side of her face contorted as if trying to hide her from retribution as she tilted a shoulder to pull back farther from him. "I … Uh … I met Princess today."

His eyes shot open excitedly. "You saw her?" The look of excitement fell into a frown as he recalled the strange transmission he had eventually decided was only a static crossed-line. "That transmission, earlier today, that was her?"

Lisa dropped her head and nodded. "Yeah. She's scared. She's upset."

He was quick to leap out of his chair and pull a flight jacket off the table. "Take me to her."

She waved her hands to tell him to stop as he pulled the jacket on. "No, Mark. I can't. I don't know where she is right now."

He gasped. "You let her go?"

She shrugged. "Well she's not a prisoner, Mark. What was I supposed to do – Read her the G-Force Miranda rites and drag her to Centre Neptune?"

He slumped and gave her a desperate look. "You could have called me. If she's scared, I should be there protecting her."

Lisa shook her head. "It's not really that simple, Mark."

"Why not?"

She bit both of her lips closed and took a long breath. As she exhaled she answered in the most honest way she could. "I think it's you she's scared of…"

Mark's body seemed to freeze. His voice was no more of a confused whisper when he responded. "What?"

"There've been some changes with her and …"

"What do you mean she's scared of me?" he interrupted forcibly. "How in the Hell can you make a bullshit accusation like that?" His body shuddered as he spoke; and for the first time since she'd met him, Mark actually frightened her.

She backed up as much as she could and closed in on herself. "Mark, please …"

"I love her, damn it. I never hurt her. I never would."

"I didn't mean it in that way."

"I would kill any man who would even consider hurting her," he insisted as he stalked a couple of steps toward her. "Take me to her last known location."

Lisa cowered, actually half turning her body away from him as he approached. "Commander, please. You're scaring me."

Mark's eyes widened at her plea. He caught himself and immediately backed about three steps away from her. "Oh God, Lisa. I'm sorry, I didn't mean …"

She kept herself turned away from him. "This isn't a good idea, Mark. I shouldn't have come today."

He slumped where he stood and lowered his head in regret and disappointment in himself. "Lisa, I'm sorry. I'm just so." he raised his head to her to plead for her forgiveness. "I just miss her so much. We were together almost all our lives, and to have her vanish just like that." He sighed. " I can't bear it."

She let her eyes, but not her body, turn to him and immediately gasped to see the glare of tears damming in his eyes. "Oh, Mark." she quickly turned and pulled him to her. She held him to her, pulling his face down onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

His voice was muffled as his arms shifted around her shoulders to hang on to her tight. "I would give my soul just to hear her voice again."

Lisa tightened her hold on him and warred in her mind as the whether or not to follow through with her reason for coming to him in the first place. "Her name is Cassandra Anderson, Mark."

He pulled back from her and sniffed as he searched her face for whatever else she had to say. "Yes?"

Lisa didn't let him down. "She works for the 57th precinct in the Explosives Investigations Unit."

"The bomb squad?"

She nodded fighting tears herself. "She's been with the unit since." she stumbled. "Since …"

He inhaled shakily and nodded. "Since she left?"

"Since her child was born."

For the second time in less than ten minutes, the Eagle leader froze in shock. "She's a mother? She moved on?"

Lisa's eyes widened as she inhaled a long breath. "Since _your_ child was born."

Mark's head twisted quickly to her. "My _what_?"

She nodded. "Mark, don't be mad at her. She's scared."

"I'm a father?"

"Yes, Commander."

He moaned and rolled his eyes, appearing for a moment he might collapse on the spot. "I have to sit down."

Lisa jerked to help him. "Are you okay?"

He looked up at her with a look that gave her the facetious answer she expected as he flopped heavily back on the swing seat. "A son or daughter?"

"A little girl."

He clutched at his stomach as his body contracted forward as if he were about to vomit. "No wonder she left."

"She was scared, Mark."

He shook his head and rocked himself. "It's bad enough I cheated on my girlfriend … But my pregnant girlfriend?"

"Don't."

"I am such a cad. What kind of hero am I?"

She crouched in front of him. "You can make this right, Commander. Just let her see you like this, half the man you used to be…"

"I'm not even that."

She touched her hand to his shoulder. "Yes you are, Mark. You're everything she needs right now. You just have to prove it to her."

"I don't even know if she still …"

She pressed her finger to his mouth to quiet him. "I heard her, Mark. I know how she feels. She loves you."

His eyes looked into hers pleadingly. "Take me to her, Lisa. Please."

She shook her head. "No, Mark. I promised I wouldn't. I broke orders to come to you with this as it is."

"Then how do I find her?"

Lisa stood slowly and ran her hand over his hair. "I'm expected at the precinct tomorrow morning. Perhaps my Commander should visit to check on my progress."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

For all his court dates, visits to the local police station, training, and coordination in the Federation labs, Mark would never have envisioned the main Criminalistics Laboratory to have been such a high energy and positive venue. He watched with a raised brow the joking and lively banter between each officer.

There were no actual suspects in this building, but in each separate room he passed on the way to the explosives department, was evidence and proof that humans were not playing nice with each other. It made the Eagle leader wonder exactly why he and his team continued to sacrifice themselves when obviously the rest of the world didn't care.

He ran his fingers through his tangled hair as he slowly made his way through the corridor. He wasn't in his birdstyle uniform today. With the PR department exposing them as they had for the past twelve months, he didn't require it anymore for people to know who he was. As he walked, people immediately stepped aside to let him pass. No questions, no comments.

It was kind of nice.

He headed toward the office that the receptionist had directed him to. He'd originally asked to see Lisa, hoping his Falcon could take him to Princess, and was thrilled when the receptionist told him to wait in Detective Anderson's office.

As he drew closer his pace slowed.

What was he going to say to her?

How would she react when she saw him … and he when he saw her for that matter? It had been a long and lonely eighteen months for a man who should be able to have a different woman every night. He'd tried. He'd randomly dated women here and there in an attempt to feel something – anything – close to what he had with Princess.

But none had come close.

As soon as he leaned forward to kiss his date goodnight, he always ended up just giving a friendly kiss on the cheek and told them it was "nice".

He wanted to be mad at her, and to blame her for his heartbreak. In a mild way it was her fault. But she'd only walked out on him after he'd committed the ultimate atrocity in a relationship. She had every right to leave him…

…But she had no right to take his child from him.

He searched himself for anger at her for hiding the fact he was a father, but couldn't find it. He couldn't understand why. Human nature demanded that he should be livid about not being there for the most important moments in his child's life. She'd made a decision for him that was his alone to make. She decided that he was not worthy to be a father.

Perhaps she was right … she usually was.

Right now the only emotion he felt was need. He needed to see her; to hold her; to ask her forgiveness.

His heart hammered as he stepped into the doorway of the office, lightly rapping his knuckles on the doorframe.

"Hello?"

He smirked at the meekness of his voice, especially when he heard the slide of wheels on linoleum flooring as one of the office's occupants pushed himself in his chair to see who the visitor was. The young man, not more than about 25 years old, geekish and wearing a labcoat over a baggy pair of grey jeans, pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at the Eagle Leader. He immediately jumped to his feet and wiped his hands on his thighs.

"Oh wow. Commander. I didn't expect you to come to the lab."

Mark gave a one-sided smirk and extended his hand in greeting. "Just a quick visit to see how Lisa's behaving herself here. And you are?"

The young man shook his hand eagerly. "Oh, I'm Eric. I'm Detective Knight and Anderson's assistant. I'm their eyes and ears when they're crawling through the gross stuff looking for the fun stuff."

Mark smiled. "So you keep them safe?"

"About as safe as one can when they're playing with explosives, and Damien can be a little TNT happy when he gets the right stuff."

Mark smirked, "I know someone like that."

"Would that be the Condor? I've heard some great stories about him from Lisa."

Mark's brows rose. "Lisa's been gossiping?" he joked. "Well, I might just have to talk to her about keeping G-Force secrets."

Eric shook his head and blushed. "Oh, nothing too secret, trust me. We've been trying to get the gossip on the Swan …" He stopped abruptly as Mark's expression immediately darkened. "Oh, sorry, man. I didn't mean to say that."

Mark cleared his throat and shook his head. "It's a sore topic."

"You loved her, eh?"

Mark huffed. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Understandable. I'm sorry for bringing it up." Eric pointed at Princess' desk. "You can take a seat at Cassie's desk while you wait. She, Damien and Lisa are in the ballistics lab. Nightshift found another of those new mixes in a bus shelter. Cass wanted to make sure Lisa knew how dangerous it was so your head honchos know what to look for."

"What do you mean by new mix?"

Eric snorted. "I say that in Lay terms. If I broke it down by what the mass spec spat out at us … Hell I don't think even your Swan could have deciphered it."

"Alien?"

"Yeah. Probably Spectran." He thumbed at his nose and watched as Mark's eyes scanned every item on Princess' desk. "There are foreign elements in there that aren't in our databanks. Sarge says Neptune sent some cryptic little message about how we have to report every instance to your head of explosives." He grunted. "Like we don't already."

Mark's expression was neutral as he picked up a framed photograph of Princess and her daughter. "They're nothing if not anal-retentive, Eric." He tilted his head to analyze the smiling faces of Princess and the baby. "Wow," he whispered as he drew his finger along the image of Princess' face.

Eric looked over his shoulder. "She's stunning, isn't she?"

Mark nodded and let his eyes fall on the chubby faces of the infant. "Yes."

"Yeah, I've been trying to get her attention for three months, ever since I started in this department."

Mark ignored the comment as his eyes took in every feature on his daughter in the photograph.

There she was; proof that he had sired a beautiful girl. Proof that there was one little person in the world who didn't even know he existed. Proof that he had been denied the most important part of being a human being – fatherhood.

He couldn't quell the curl of his upper lip and the tic of his eye as his heart fluttered and flopped in his chest like a flailing fish out of water. He felt immediately hollow. There was a dizzying swirl of something in the very back of his head that caused him to raise his gaze to the virtual stranger sharing the office space with him.

Eric spoke first, not completely understanding the emotional shift between Mark: the man, and Mark: the Eagle.

"Isn't she an adorable little girl? Intelligent as Hell." He sat on the desk beside where Mark stood, not realizing he was within striking distance. "So cute. I had to babysit her once …"

Mark flicked his eyes jealously at him, immediately sizing him up like a competitor. He basically ignored whatever else Eric had to say. All he understood was that this man had spent time with; had been more privileged; and had Princess' trust enough to spend time with his child.

She trusted the welfare of his daughter with a complete stranger.

The picture frame cracked in his hold.

Eric gasped and quickly snatched the frame from Mark's hold. "Oh, shit. She's going to be pissed, this frame was from the kid's grandfather."

Mark's eyes flared angrily. _Grandfather_ obviously indicated either Anderson or Cronus, and whichever of the two was responsible for hiding his baby from him was going to die.

He had to control his own voice as he asked, slowly, "and their father?"

He shrugged. "Cassie's pretty quiet on the topic of the Dad. Through her hardest moments as a mother, Damien tried to push her to contact him for help, but she'd just get all quiet and ask him not to pry. You ask me, she's still in love with the guy." He gingerly set the frame on the desk. "I think the guy's probably dangerous or somethin' cause she's either terrified of him personally, or something surrounding him."

"Meaning?"

He shrugged. "Damned if I know. Probably in a gang or something, although she doesn't exactly seem the type to fall in love with a goon."

Mark grunted and pushed a couple of files aside to reveal a sketch of him in birdstyle romantically embracing Princess from behind.

Eric smiled. "One of the facial reconstruction artists sketched that up as a joke when we were told someone from G-Force was coming in to play with us. We all know she thinks you are some kind of Roman God, so we thought it would be a good stir. She hasn't even seen it yet." He grabbed a pen from beside Mark. "Hey, autograph it for her, she'd probably get a kick out of it."

He silently stared at the image that could very well have been a photograph of them together at the base, and was hit with a pang of guilt and sympathy for what must have been running through Princess' mind through all this. He grabbed the pen and let it roll along his fingers for a moment before he finally let out an irritated and angry grunt and slammed both the picture and pen on the desk.

"Take me to her," Mark demanded in a low, ordering tone.

Eric smiled uncomfortably, but tried to keep his voice and demeanour light. "Oh yeah. Sure. She's going to flip out when she sees you, Man."

Mark's eyes narrowed. "Something tells me you're right about that."

There was a loud voice suddenly roaring through the corridor.

"Fire in the Hole! Fire in the Hole! Single blast!"

Then, an explosion. It was nothing too violent, but enough to immediately alarm Mark. He leapt to his feet and rushed to the door, surprised to hear cheers and laughter from the direction of the blast. He looked back at Eric, whose face was frozen in an awed "O" shape. "What was that?"

Eric smirked and flicked his hand for Mark to follow. "Cassandra just set of some of that new stuff. It's incredible how potent the mixture is."

Mark jogged behind Eric and gasped a laugh as he saw Lisa, wide-eyed with a charcoal-streaked face exit the room gingerly hanging on to the doorframe. "Oh, damn."

Damien exited next, laughing loud. He patted her on the shoulder. "Lisa, next time Cassie tells you to back off 'cause this shit goes boom, she's not kidding."

Lisa blew her hair from her eyes and groaned. "But it was only a teeny-tiny amount. Not even the size of a match head."

Princess emerged from the room next, her clothing perfectly clean and crisp – unlike her two lab partners. She was smiling as she popped a pen into a pocket on her open lab coat. Her eyes were downcast as she double-checked her information on her clipboard. "So you can only imagine what happened when Damien got hold of a cherry-sized piece, can't you?"

Damien quieted his voice to become uncharacteristically serious. "Or if the bad guys have a lot more."

Mark stood frozen at the sight of her. All of the planning in his mind tossed aside as his heart joined the battle of sanity against insanity over love and anger. A soft whisper of her name was all he could manage to get out. It was enough, though, and Princess raised her head.

Her expression as her eyes met Mark's was readable by only one man. Mark.

She wanted to run, to escape and hide away from him.

She wanted to rush him and shove him from her, complain and yell at him for not leaving her be.

She also wanted to throw herself at him, cry and whimper into his chest and beg him never to let her walk away from him again.

Mark saw each emotion pass across her eyes. He made no attempt to hide his own emotion and lowered his head to glare at her through his brows.

Princess' eyes locked on his. The heat in his glare immediately alarmed her and she looked to Damien and then to Lisa. "Uh. You know, I'm really busy. I really should get this information into the database." She shuddered, which made her voice come out staggered and terrified. "Reports, I really should do reports."

"Cass," Damien gasped on seeing the Leader of G-Force only a few feet in front of him. "The Eagle! The f'kn Eagle's come to visit!" He pulled her by the arm to attempt to drag her toward Mark. "She's your biggest fan, Commander."

Princess' hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in embarrassment. She shook her head and tried to back away. "Damien, no …"

Mark's lip curled and eyes flicked to Damien. In a possessive and protective move his hand shot to Damien's wrist. "Let go of her," he demanded in as low a warning tone as was possible. "Or I break your arm."

As Damien grunted in embarrassment and let go of her arm, Princess touched her fingertips to Mark's chest. "Mark, don't."

"Noone," he growled, not taking his eyes off the young detective. Although feeling a pang of betrayed hatred toward the mother of his child, he couldn't help but protect her. Instinctively, his hand folded softly around Princess' hand. "Noone."

"Don't mind him, Damien." Lisa interrupted chirpily as stepped in between Mark and a completely confused Damien. She pressed both hands into Mark's chest to walk him backward. "Such a chivalrous man is my Commander." Her eyes bore into Mark's, warning with him to back off and stop acting like a jealous lover. "Doesn't like to see tug of wars going on."

Damien rubbed at his wrist and looked at his partner. "I was only playing, Cass. I'm sorry if I hurt you, you know I never would."

She nodded and blinked slowly to switch her gaze to Mark. "That's okay, Damien."

Mark switched his eyes in between Princess and her partner. "Detective Anderson, a word?" He thrust a hand into his pocket and pointed to a room across the hall. "After you."

She whimpered and looked to Lisa, both shooting an accusing glare at her and begging for assistance. After receiving nothing but a slow blink of the eyes in response, she followed Mark inside the ballistics lab and closed the door behind her.

She whispered softly, but loud enough to be heard. "Why are you here?"

His voice was quiet and pained when he answered her. "Why do you think?"

"This isn't the place."

"Then where?" he demanded. "This is the only place I know I can find you."

She frowned and looked out of the window at her two male colleagues, who looked upon them puzzled and fascinated. "I don't want to talk about it, Mark. Not here, not now. Just … "She sighed and looked back at him. "Please, Mark. I can't do this."

"No."

She had to let out a single huff. She completely expected that response from him. "This is my workplace."

He ignored her words. "Not until I know why."

She raised a brow and grunted. "You know, why." She pointed at his crotch. "That's why. You couldn't keep that thing in your pants."

Mark frowned and shook his head. "That's not an explanation, Princess, and you know it."

She fought with her emotions and switched uncomfortably between folding her arms and holding herself. "Mark, Please…"

He ignored her request and took enough steps toward her to almost press his entire body against hers. He deliberately, and for his own self-control, made sure to stay a hare's breath away from her. "When did you plan on letting me know I was a father?"

She backed up a step, terrified when he moved in perfect synchronicity with her to remain on top, but not against, her. "Mark, I couldn't."

"You kept her from me."

She slid to the side to escape his glare. Finding confidence in opening up some distance, she kept her gaze from him and arrogantly spoke. "I am not having this conversation. Not now, Mark."

"Then when?"

She looked with embarrassment at the growing crowd of officers vying for the perfect vantage point to witness the conversation. Frustrated and panicked she grabbed handfuls of her own hair and looked up at him. "Not here, Mark. Come on, you are supposed to have more tact and privacy than this. This is not the place for me to try an explain this to you."

His eyes switched between flaring in anger and jealousy, and in sympathy for her situation. He tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes. "I loved you more than I thought it possible to love someone."

"You're using past tense, Mark," she gasped before thinking.

His shoulder flinched with a held back physical reaction to her comment. He let go with a grunt and let his jaw quiver as he searched out his words. "Nothing is past tense, but right now … right now." He turned his back to her. "I'm finding it real hard not to hate you."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I know the feeling, Commander."

"I want to…" He turned his head back to her. "I have so many things I want to do right now to you that … God!"

She read the implication. She knew there were fifty emotions spurring him on right now. In an attempt to try and coax out the one she needed she reached out her hand to touch her fingertips to his shoulder. "Mark, when I finish work we can …" Her voice and breath hitched as he roughly jerked from her touch.

"Don't."

Another tear joined the new race down her cheek as she opened her mouth to respond. Before she could, a siren rang out over their heads.

The squad sergeant burst out of his office and growled low at his team. "Knight, Anderson, suit up. We've got another one."

Princess wiped heavily at her eyes at the command of her squad leader. She barely spared Mark a glance as she sniffed and ducked through the doorway.

If there was ever a "saved by the bell" moment in her life, this was it.

She didn't make eye contact with any of her new team as she ran toward the locker room to retrieve her "battle" gear.

Lisa watched her run away and set her hands on her hips as her face fell in to a frown. "Obviously that didn't go well," she huffed as her eyes switched into the ballistics lab, where Mark was still standing with his head down and arms crossed tightly in front of his chest.

Squad Leader Dave Barron thumbed at his nose as he eyeballed the Eagle Leader. "What was that all about?"

Lisa let out a short breath. "She probably filled in a report wrong. The brass probably got on his ass, so he got on hers."

"Then he should be speaking to me, not my staff." His eyes looked in the direction of the locker room doors, where Princess was running through pulling on a bulletproof vest. She was obviously shaken as she shrugged off a comforting gesture from Damien. "I won't have G-Force thinking they can go around upsetting my team."

"It won't happen again, Sergeant Barron," Mark interrupted from behind as he finally exited the lab. "However, I request that any and all information pertaining to Detective Anderson; including her personnel file; is forwarded to my desk at Centre Neptune."

He raised a suspicious brow. "Is she being investigated?"

Mark's expression remained firm as was. Eagle. "Are you questioning my order?"

Barron, not unnerved by the glare of the Eagle, folded his arms in an identical manner to him and set his head back on his neck in a defiant manner. "Your orders are only effective on your own team, Commander. If you want to get information on any of my team, I want a court of law to put the papers on my desk." His eyes blinked slowly as he heard the Eagle snort. "I'm pretty damn protective of my team, and considering that girl's got a kid to keep safe, I'm not handing out her information to you or anyone without knowing exactly why."

Lisa coughed in shock. She'd never seen anyone beside Jason stand up to Mark in full leadership mode. She didn't want to think about what Mark's reaction was going to be.

Mark, however, blinked his eyes slowly at the Sergeant and lowered his head aggressively. "You'd save me a lot of wasted time if you'd cooperate, Sergeant."

"Unless my girl is under investigation, in extreme personal danger or your ex-f'kn-Swan, I ain't sharin'."

Mark's eyes flashed, but he remained silent.

Barron sniffed, crinkling one nostril in a flippant gesture and turned on his heel. "Now, we've got a live one downtown. So if you'll excuse me."

Lisa kept her gaze innocently and timidly flickering between the two men – one large in frame, the other in legend – as they quietly separated. She cleared her throat softly. "Uh, I'll be right with you, Sarge."

"No," Mark growled as his foot rolled upward to begin a slow stalk outside. "Your duties with this department are over, Falcon."

Barron turned his head, pausing mid walk, and Lisa gasped. "But, Commander. I was assigned here for three weeks. I've only done three days."

Mark didn't even spare her a glance. He spoke over his shoulder at her. "Your assignment is over. Return to Neptune immediately."

"But, Mark …"

"That's an order!" He passed by Barron and slid a displeased glare toward him. "You'll have papers on your desk the instant our department speaks to a judge."

"And when I can get the information from our Human Resources Department, who are very busy right now, then you'll have her information." He shrugged a shoulder. "Can't tell you how long that'd take."

Lisa gave the Squad leader a sympathetic and apologetic look as she passed. She mouthed "sorry" to him and followed her Commander outside.

She almost walked into his back when he stopped his stride abruptly at the front doors. As she peered over his shoulder, the object of his attention was clear.

Princess stood at the open side door of a large Bomb Squad response vehicle struggling to fasten the belt-like straps on her bulletproof vest. Her assistant, Eric stood quietly in front of her, holding her clipboard and gun holster for her. Beside her, and facing both Mark and Lisa was Damien. Princess' new partner and her lifeline to safety had his hand affectionately stroking at her arm as he attempted to speak to her.

She seemed oblivious to both men and switched between trying to fasten her vest and wiping at her eyes.

Mark's face flinched in a tic when he watched Damien gently stroke her cheek to hook her hair behind her ear. He said something to her and brought his face close to hers to look into her eyes. When she finally looked at her partner, pouted, and dropped her head onto his shoulder, Mark growled and stormed off.

Lisa was left to watch the friendly gesture and reaction from the two officers and groaned as Mark left.

"Mark!" She called after him, knowing he had the keys to her vehicle. "Wait for me.


	6. Chapter 6

The trip to the bombsite had been unusually quiet for the Squad team. With six of them working as a tight unit, they were apt to spent the time together in the truck joking, laughing, or speculating and placing bets on exactly what they'd be tackling today.

After witnessing their teammate being chewed out by the G-Force Eagle, and her resulting solemn mood, not one of them was willing to open their mouths and begin any kind of conversation. The only one who seemed willing to breathe out a word was her partner, and all he could manage was a whispered: "Are you going to be okay?"

Barron had been grumpily quiet on his own. His only shortly spoken phrases were directed at dispatch, where he stubbornly demanded each and every tiny piece of information about the explosive that was possible.

It was Princess who finally raised her head to attempt to lighten up the mood in the truck. She feigned a lighthearted attitude and although convincing to anyone else, her team knew differently.

"What do you think we have, team? Something deliciously evil, or just another one of those benign suspicious packages?"

Damien smirked with a lowered head. His facial expression, although still somewhat concerned, turned mischievious. "My bets are on something Spectran."

Eric laughed. "With you it's always Spectran."

"Yeah, well. Maybe I want something fun to play with for a change."

Princess raised a brow and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "You really scare me sometimes, Damien."

He shrugged. "Oh come on, with you and me down there getting dirty, Cass, there's nothing to worry about."

Barron snorted. "Tell that to the county, Knight. After your stunt in the lab …."

"Must I constantly be reminded of that," he groaned in interruption.

Barron's response was simple. "Yes. You do."

Princess actually snickered into her hand and as they approached the hot zone, started to feel a little lighter.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Lisa sank into the passenger seat of her Honda Accord and glared across at her commander. She was confused, concerned and irritated by his behaviour but was unsure about how to express her feelings. It was obvious that the Eagle had fully engulfed all sides of his personality. She could tell by the lowered head glare through the brows expression he wore while driving that he was going to be unreasonable if she tried to speak to him …

… But she knew she had to.

She began by clearing her throat. "What happened back there, Mark?"

His eyes didn't flick from the road. "In your three days with criminal investigators I assume you've picked up enough skill to work it out yourself."

She coughed, widened her eyes and flicked her hand at him in response. She couldn't help but adopt a kind-of Valley girl tone of voice when she responded. "Oh, no, you didn't just speak to me like a child."

"No," he answered smoothly, "I spoke to you like an idiot."

"Unjustified if you ask me."

"I didn't."

She blinked and locked her jaw in a half-open position of disgust. "Jason warned me you had anger displacement issues – you really should work on that a little."

"Are you asking me to apologise?"

She was mortified at the emotionless and inconsiderate manner with which he was acting. Sure he had to be pissed off, but who the hell did he think he was taking it out on her? "No. I'm asking you to pull your head out of your ass and stop treating me like I was the one who did you wrong."

His head tilted yet lower as his eyes narrowed, so focused they were almost crossed, on the traffic ahead of him. "How dare she," he growled dangerously.

"She had her reasons."

"None of which justifies her not letting me know I have a daughter."

"She'd probably argue with that."

He tilted his head slightly toward her. "Are you agreeing with her?"

She shrugged. "No. I don't even know what her reasons are, Mark. She and I never spoke about it. I can only assume she figured the two of them were safer being away from you."

His foot came down hard on the brake and the car skidded sideways in response. His entire body turned to Lisa as he growled: "Are you telling me I can't protect my own child?"

She grunted as her shoulder hit the car door hard from the twist of the spinning vehicle. "Jesus, Mark! Are you trying to kill us?"

He lurched forward to her and angrily groped at his own seatbelt as it locked up and prevented him from full movement. "I am the Eagle, damn it. Who on this planet is better protection than me?"

She wanted to back down and cower but bravely shifted her body toward him in a mirrored move of aggression. "Do not take your anger out on me, Commander!" She leaned across him and opened the car door. "Now get out of my car and find your own way home."

His eye twitched as a glimmer of the man inside the Eagle peered into reality for a moment. He was gone in a second, however, as Mark unsnapped the seatbelt and hauled himself out of the vehicle. "I'd make a great father," he growled as he grabbed the door to slam it. He watched her eyes rise to him as she crawled across the seat to the driver's side. "She had no right to take that from me."

Lisa raised her eyes to him and pulled the door shut. She spoke to him through the open window. "Then tell her that." Her eyes flicked away from him as she turned to the road. "Taking it out on us isn't going to help you at all."

"Don't you dare drive away, Lisa."

"Go get a drink or something, Mark, then call Jason. He can put up with your shit better than I can."

Mark curled a lip and set his fist on the roof of the car. "I'm ordering you to let me get back in the car."

She shook her head and floored the accelerator, leaving Mark standing in the middle of the road with traffic honking their horns angrily at him standing in their way.

"Lisa!" he demanded into his communicator, as he remained standing in the center of the westbound traffic lane. "Lisa, answer me."

When he received no answer from his sixth, he curled a lip and stalked to the other side of the road toward a bus shelter. He ignored a stray page of a newspaper wrapping itself around his calf and ankle as he strode to the glass structure housing only two passengers – a sleeping drunk and an iPod-wearing teenager.

He took a long and deep breath as he stood on the outside of the shelter and let his forehead drop onto the glass wall.

"How could she do this to me," he asked himself softly as he felt the first sting of tears in his eyes. "I deserve better than this."

His breathing rate deepened and increased as the urge to break down to his knees grew inside him.

As the first, second and third tear hit the pavement and tips of his shoes he finally allowed himself the chance to expel his frustration. With a loud, low and pained cry he drew his arm backward and launched it at the wall. The glass wall shattered with his punch and he fell through, fell to his knees and broke down. On his knees with his hands bloody and clawing at the shards of tempered glass, the Eagle finally let the man out.

It wasn't until he felt the firm hand of his second fall heavily on his shoulder that Mark moved from that position.

"Come on, Mark. You and I need a drink …"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Eric was excited at his first chance to join his two supervisors into the field of battle. It was only a mere two weeks ago that he had completed his part-time training with the Academy. The chance to be able to work with the field team actually diffusing the bomb, rather than sitting in the truck on closed circuit feed, was taken with more enthusiasm than typical. Detective Anderson and Knight were the leading operatives in the city. Academy cadets from all over the state wanted to work with the pair. He'd be an idiot to pass it up.

He could feel his nerves prick as Princess fastened the straps on his bulletproof vest. "We wear a different vest to everyone else," she commented softly as she grit her teeth to pull a strap tight. "It's heavier than what you're used to and has more coverage. I warn you, it'll get pretty hot in there."

He smirked and looked up adoringly at her pursed lip smile. "Thanks, Cassandra. I won't let you down, I promise."

She winked. "I know."

Damien shoved a gun into a holster on Eric's thigh. "Not that a bullet will do much against a bomb, but rules are rules, man."

"I really don't think a full chest plate will do much against a bomb blast either, Damien," he muttered as he pulled on his helmet. "Suit of armour might serve us better."

Damien shrugged as he strode past and swiped an earpiece from Barron. "Less protection we wear, the less mess to clean up, right Cass?"

Princess raised her eyes to her partner as she fixed her own communications device into her ear. "Faster death, you mean." She smiled as she holstered a remote radiation sensor. "Too much protection just prolongs the agony."

Damien nodded in total calm agreement. "Yup." He smirked and let out a laugh at the sudden horrified look on Eric's face. "Ahh, don't fret it Eric. If the bomb goes boom and you're next to it, you won't feel a damn thing."

Eric cleared his throat and held tightly on to a large digital camera. "Thank you for that," he stammered as he swallowed. "It's good to know today might be my last day on earth."

Damien laughed. Princess smacked him on the shoulder. "That's not nice, Damien. Don't you remember your first time out?"

He shrugged and pulled on his own helmet. "Yeah, we didn't stand around wasting time talking."

With only a simple command from their squad leader, the trio walked into the evacuated building.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Mark threw back a shot of whiskey and slammed the small glass onto the table. Sitting in a dimly lit corner of the bar, inside a booth under a dull light inside a pool-table style shade, he and his second were happy not to be either noticed by other patrons or bothered by excitable fangirls.

For ten minutes they'd been sitting in relative silence. The only words uttered as far were questions about which drink the other would like to nurse, shoot or gulp. Neither gentleman really wanted to begin the conversation that was inevitable. It was easier for one to let the other start so that if there were terse words or if a fight broke out the blame was easily laid on initiator.

Today, however, Jason knew he'd have to assign himself the blame. He cleared his throat and drew his finger around the rim of his glass of bourbon. "So get it out."

Mark's eyes rose. "It's easier to keep it in."

Jason lifted one side of his nose in a sniff. "By that you mean taking your anger out on any poor soul who pretends to give a shit."

"Which is you, I guess."

Jason shook his head and cut straight to the point. "Lisa told me what happened in her car, Man." He took a small sip of his drink and swished it in his mouth before swallowing. "That was uncalled for."

"Then I'll apologise."

Jason was less than impressed at Mark's monotone and nonchalant manner of speaking and raised his eyes to his Commander. "Not with that level of sincerity you won't."

Mark leaned his elbow on the top back of the bench seat he was on and tapped his fingers on the table. "If you're asking me to beg and plead for forgiveness ..."

"I'm asking you to be a man, suck it up, and admit you were wrong." He leaned his forearms on the table and leaned a little closer to him. "Cause you getting pissy on Lisa – I don't know – because she's a chick, is just going to make things really ugly."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll apologise, kiss her ass …."

Jason's fist hit the table. "Don't. Just don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't pull this shit, Mark. Just because you're all pissed off doesn't mean you can take it out on the rest of us."

Mark coughed, but remained steadfastly calm and emotionally detached. "Easy for you to say, Jason. You know, I'd really love to see you be a good little boy if Lisa pulled this same thing on you."

Jason shrugged, folded his arms and leaned back in the seat. "Never happen, man. See there is this little rubber thing called a condom, one of it's many fine purposes is to prevent pregnancy." He sniffed. "And besides, I'd never give her cause to walk out on me in the first place."

Mark's eyes narrowed. "This isn't my fault."

"Not entirely. It's yours and Princess' fault. You fucked up, and she fucked up ."

Mark's fast rise of the brows at the accusation made Jason skip his words. He fast saved a fight by raising a hand to prevent a rebuttal.

"Yes, Princess fucked it up much more than you, but come on. Look at it from her perspective." His hand fell to his glass. "She's thinking you strayed because you didn't want to commit, because you didn't want to be with her. She also knows you better than you know yourself. She knows if she'd come back with your kid growing inside her that you'd stay with her no matter what you wanted."

"She's what I wanted, Jason. I wanted her, only her. What happened with Melissa …"

"She doesn't know or understand all that."

Mark nodded and then shook his head. He thumbed at his nose with the hand leaning on the back of his chair and looked away from his second. "Yeah. Take her side."

"Hey," he shrugged as if to dismiss everything. "I'm not taking anyone's side. I don't blame you for being pissed off beyond all fucking reasoning. I would be too."

"Then why are we sitting here?"

Jason raised a finger to ask Mark to let him finish. "What she did is completely inexcusable. It's not unforgivable, but there is neither excuse, nor reason for it. You had every right to know about the kid. What I'm kicking your ass over is how you're taking it out on us, and not her."

Mark clicked out of the side of his mouth and watched his fingers stretch and roll on the seat back. "I don't want to take it out on her, Man."

"Which makes absolutely no sense."

"She's the mother of my child. How can I?" he groaned. "I want to yell at her. I want to make her pay for what she's done. I want her to suffer and realize how much this has hurt."

"But you can't."

Mark shrugged. "If I do I'll lose the both of them."

Jason pursed his lips and took another sip of his drink. "You still love her?"

He laughed sadly and shook his head. "Right now? I hate her."

Jason smirked. "Love, hate, same shit."

Mark shook his head. "No. This is different, Man. She betrayed me in the worst way possible. She denied me the chance to be who I need to be. I should be a husband and a father now, not a lonely miserable fuck who doesn't even know who he is anymore." He shrugged. "And does she even care?"

Jason widened his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, she does."

He pointed up at a TV monitor broadcasting the news flash with an image of a content, yet determined, Princess with two of her teammates ready to go diffuse a bomb. "Does she look like it to you?"

Jason slid his head to a tilt and smiled at the image of the three of them all dressed in green and black bomb squad fatigues. "She's always been a good actress, Mark. If she's distracted and miserable do you think they'd let her go in there?"

"They might."

"Don't play a dimwit with me. You know full well they'd ground her ass if she was even slightly distracted. And you also know she doesn't take groundings very well – need I remind you of the time you tried …"

Mark shook his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." His gaze was locked on the screen, watching the three officers enter a building surrounded by the police force, S.W.A.T. teams and paramedics.

Jason snapped his fingers in front of his Commander's face. "Look, Mark. I spent two hours with her yesterday as she sobbed and killed herself over this whole thing. She told me some shit that …" he sighed. "Well you really need to hear for yourself."

Mark snorted, his eyes still on the screen. "Let me guess …" he adopted a squeaky feminine voice. "I was so scared to come to him. He doesn't love me. He doesn't need me. He doesn't need her. He couldn't commit to be a lover, how could he commit to fatherhood?"

"Keep it up," Jason warned, "and I'm going to lean across this table and punch your head in."

Mark's eyes flicked to him. "Then do it."

"I know you're angry now, man. But you'll eventually get over it and probably spend some of your selfishness understanding part of where she was when she made this decision." He lowered his voice. "You'll probably take her back, make love to her every night, marry her and have more kids."

"Unlikely."

"You say that now."

Mark sighed. "You have no idea how much this hurts. After the screwed up childhood I had, with no father, losing my mother and not knowing who I am, I vowed to make sure the same wouldn't happen to my kids."

"Then make sure it doesn't."

Mark threw himself back heavily into the chair. "It already has."

Jason shook his head. "The only one screwed up right now is Princess. Amanda isn't even a year old yet. She won't know anything." He pushed a new shot glass of whiskey toward Mark. "You and Princess know there was a hiccup there, but she's not going to know."

Mark screwed up his face and shook his head. "I can't. Not right now."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know if I'll have any control the next time I see her."

Jason's brow twitched. "Control over what?"

"Anything."

He pursed his lips. "And the overriding passion right now?"

"Hate, anger … " His upper lip twitched. "I want to punch her, throttle her, kiss her and make love to her all in one hit."

"I'll warn you now that if you go with the first of those reactions that you'll have an entire police department, S.W.A.T. team, Rangers squadron and one mighty pissed off Condor hunting you down to get medieval on you."

Mark humphed. "Give me some credit. Just because I want to doesn't mean I will. I'm not an abusive asshole."

"That, I have to agree with."

Mark was silent for a moment as he let his eyes linger on the newscaster on the screen above the bar. The side of his mouth finally gave a twitch and he spoke to his second without looking at him. "You know what is really pissing me off right now, Jase?"

"What?"

Mark slowly let his gaze fall on Jason, who had his face cupped in his hands as he lit a cigarette with a match. "I don't know what to do."

Jason's mouth twitched over the cigarette as he shook the flame from the match and tossed the spend stick into an ashtray. "Who would?"

"No, you don't understand. I have no idea how to approach this or what to do about it."

Jason raised a brow, inhaled, but said nothing.

So Mark continued. "You can put me in any combat situation and I can analyze the data, weigh the options and come up with a plan before I take a breath." He exhaled. "But as usual, when it comes to her, I come up blank. I honestly don't know how to approach this, what plan to take or …"

Jason punched at the left side of his chest to indicate his heart. "Go with that, man. You can't lose if you go with what this tells you."

Mark rolled his eyes and let out a cough of a laugh. "I thought the gut was the only option."

"Depends on who you want to hurt along the way. The gut is selfish, and steers you its way. You know your heart won't lead you astray, man."

Mark had to raise a brow in response. "Jason, that's deep, too much for you."

He shrugged and smiled as he drew back a sip of his bourbon. "Call Lisa a bad influence."

"Yeah, she's turning you into a chick."

Jason couldn't help but lower his head deviously and chuckle. "Well, only a woman knows what a woman likes, right?"

"I'll make sure I'll add a pretty pink satin teddy and fluffy slippers to your Christmas stocking."

Jason answered with a smile and flip of the bird.

Mark seemed to relax a little and sighed as he looked across at a small group of lunching police officers. "Do you think she enjoys it?"

Jason followed Mark's gaze. "The force? Yeah, she's a team player, needs to be out there fighting evil and protecting people."

"Do you think she'll come back?"

Jason shrugged. "Dunno, Mark. A lot's changed, and she's got and extra little life to think about now. Policing is far safer than hanging out with us."

"We've always kept her safe and alive before."

Jason inhaled on his cigarette and blew the smoke out quickly. "Tell her that and she'll deny it. She did it all on her own."

Mark replied with a look, smirk and tilt of the head, but said nothing.

Jason winked. "You and I know it, Skipper. But she held her own pretty good."

"Yeah. She was beautiful to watch."

"Still is." He pulled at his ear and set his eyes on the officers, who were making a toast to an arrest they'd made that day. "Couple of days ago I watched her lose her mind on a group of thugs. Damn that brought back some memories."

Mark's attention flicked quickly to Jason, "What did …"

His words and attention were fractured by the sudden, alarmed yelp from the table of officers. Both he and Jason immediately set their sight and attention to them.

"Bomb Squad's in trouble!" One yelled as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and dumped crinkled dollar bills on the table. "Gun shots and an explosion …"

Mark and Jason shared a look, a nod, and quickly leapt out of their booth. Mark was on the com-link as Jason apologized to the waitress and promised to pay up the tab next time they were in.


	7. Chapter 7

Princess ignored the hot pounding in her thigh and ribs as she fell to her knees beside Eric and Damien, both of whom were covered in debris, blood, and soot from the explosion.

She, herself had a large gash on her forehead from flying debris, but ignored the pounding of the wound in order to tend to her teammates.

"Gosh," she whispered more gruffly than was normal for her voice, "what happened?"

Of course there was no answer to her question beyond a creak from a weakened support beam over her head. She raised her eyes to quickly assess the danger. "I've got to get you guys out of here."

Her eyes fell to the pair of downed men in front of her as she heard a familiar groan and shuffle of papers and wood shards. "Damien," she sighed in relief as she quickly slid across the floor on her knees to help shove the larger pieces of debris off him. "Are you okay?"

His eyes blinked as he held back a smartass reply. "Yeah, Cass. It's nothing."

"Liar," she muttered with a relived smile as she watched his forearm bend in a way that should only have been possible if he had an extra joint.

He winced as the pain of a broken arm crept into his senses, but managed to smile. "Anything for you, Darlin'." His eyes fell to Eric, whose eyelids were slightly ajar to reveal a very still stare of brown eyes. "Oh fuck, Cass. Please tell me he isn't…"

Her lips pursed in an unbreathed "shush" as she pressed her fingers against Eric's carotid artery to feel for life. "He has a pulse, but it's weak." In a habitual move gained through her years of panic in battle with G-Force, Princess raised her wrist to her mouth. "G-3 to Neptune Med …" her voice cracked with worry as she heard a gasp from her partner.

"Cass?"

Princess' wide eyes only widened further as she searched her mind for a viable explanation that didn't involve her actually being the G-Force Swan. "Uh."

Damien raised his hand to ask her to stop. "It's not important right now, Cass." He tipped his chin to the walkie-talkie microphone on his shoulder. "Detective Knight to Base-camp. Sarge, you listening?"

His eyes remained on his female partner as he called in their damage report to Sergeant Barron.

It should have been obvious a long time ago, his mind warned as his mouth focused on the call, that the woman sitting with him was the Swan. Why? Well, one: she had incredible grace and calm in the face of weaponry and explosives. Two: A girl too young to know so much about the most abstract and uncommon explosive mixtures and units. Three: Her intricate knowledge of the workings within the Federation, and their penchant for specific and detailed reporting of findings. Four: The way she seemed to long for the man who wore the wings of the Eagle. There was more to her admiration than fangirl. She seemed as though she'd "been there", like she knew exactly who the man was. He saw how intently she watched the news reports and read the tabloids.

The Federation could deny it as much as they wanted. The rest of the world knew it. They saw it. They watched it. The Eagle and Swan had been in love.

And now he had "five" to add to the list: The Eagle and the love/hate in his eyes when he saw her. Only a man spurned in love and life could be that angry and that in love at the same time.

Damien would never call himself a deep and meaningful kind of guy, but he would be the first to tell someone that anger is only a mask to hide love. Only when you love that much can you hate and feel that much.

Whatever happened between the Eagle and the woman tending to Eric in front of him was more hurtful to both than a stampeding Spectran Mecha over the downtown core. Something warned him that her gorgeous little baby had almost everything to do with it.

Barron's voice crackled over static and drew Damien's thoughts away from the Soap Opera in his mind. "Damn it, Knight. What happened in there?"

He almost wished he could thumb his nose in arrogance, but couldn't being that it was attached to a broken arm. "What the fuck do you think happened, Sarge? The damn thing went boom!"

Barron's response was dry, bland, "Gee, really? I honestly never would have guessed it."

Damien sucked air in through his teeth as the pain from a large piece of shrapnel in his leg shot up into his groin. "Fuck, Sarge. Can we analyze what happened later? We've got injuries in here."

"How's the integrity of the building, Knight? Are we safe to get a medic team in …" He seemed to pull his attention away from the microphone to talk to someone else. He was heard to grunt an unpleasantry before coming back to task. "How's Anderson?"

A brow on Damien's forehead bumped its way to a high arc. "Let me guess, you've got an Eagle there demanding answers?"

"And a Condor, Owl, Swallow and Falcon."

"The whole fuckin' team?"

His eyes flashed to Princess, who, although she appeared distracted by tending to her unconscious teammate, was listening intently to the broadcast. "How you doing … Princess?" He was slow and careful to use the name she used previous to her current life. He hoped to get confirmation of his suspicions almost immediately.

…And she didn't let him down.

"I haven't been called that in a long time."

He sighed in disappointment. "You and I really need to talk when we get out of here." He waited for her to nod. "Are you okay?"

"Tell the team I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle." She licked at her bruised lip. "Eric needs help, though."

"Tell the birds that the only critical injury seems to be Eric. Me and Miss Secretive are bruised and battered, but okay."

She didn't look at him as she pointed at his arm. "You've got complete fractures of the ulna and radius, Damien. You also have a concussion and a five-inch piece of steel hanging out of your leg. You need a bus as quickly as Eric does."

He shook his head. "Too much to do in here, Cass. We've got a whole scene to process."

"Which the CSI team can do." She tied off a tourniquet around Eric's upper thigh. "Right now, we've got about five minutes before the roof collapses onto our heads."

The groan of a splintered beam struggling against its own weight forced the two of them to silence and look up. Damien turned his mouth back to his mic. "Ahh shit, Sarge. Looks like part two of the explosion is imminent."

Princess worked as frantically as she could to attempt to stabilize Eric. He wasn't going to make it, she knew that, but although she knew her attention would be in vain, she couldn't bring herself to leave him here.

"Come on, Eric. You hold on, d'ya hear me?"

Her voice seemed to awaken the young man, and his eyes fluttered under his lids. "Cass-s-s …"

She smiled warmly, letting her eyes close over her tears. "Hey there, Eric, honey. Look at you all inducted into the field unit."

Eric gave the smallest of laughs that ended up as a series of wet coughs. "I messed up, didn't I?"

She shook her head, trying hard not to let her panic at the fresh blood on his lips from coughing show to him. "No, honey. You did good. I'm so proud of you."

He gingerly raised his hand and fingered at a curl of her hair that had fallen in front of her face. "Liar." His eyes closed slowly over his hurt as he realized in just how bad a condition he was in. If she was hovering over him like this, then he must be in worse physical shape than he thought he was. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

She inhaled long and let a tear roll down her cheek as she shook her head. "No Eric. We're going to get you out of here, and you'll be back searching for the bad guys in no time."

Behind her Damien bit on his lips. His eyes saw the limp lower half of his colleague's body and the pool of thick, red blood around Princess' knees and feet. He looked toward the doorway in search of the emergency crews he knew wouldn't arrive until after he'd given the all clear.

"Cass," he croaked softly. "We need to move him out of here."

She shook her head. "We can't move him, Damien."

"We have no choice Cass. This place is crumbling."

She cupped Eric's face in her hands. "I'm not leaving him. You go if you have to, but I can't."

"Not without you, partner." He dropped gingerly to his knees beside her and set his hand on her shoulder. "We'll go down together."

The beam above their heads moaned painfully and let free some large chunks of drywall. The plaster pieces smashed loudly onto the floor in front of them, only inches from their critically injured team mate.

Eric gasped and coughed again. "Cassie, Damien. Don't stay because of me, okay? You two need to get out. I'll be okay."

She pursed her lips and let out a small breath to shush him. "Don't worry about that roof, Eric. It'll hold out until the medics arrive."

"Shouldn't they already be in here?" he asked weakly. "Or do they know we're about to be entombed in the wreckage of a warehouse?"

"They're pussies," she whispered with a smile. "Not tough like us."

"Yeah," Damien added. "Ever since 9/11, they're all too scared to walk in to a building these days."

"Not funny," Princess corrected him as she slowly removed her flak jacket to place under Eric's head. "I don't think I've ever told you, Eric, just how much I enjoy working with you."

He smiled and coughed again. He didn't feel the colour on his face draining to an ashen blue, but he shuddered with cold. "Now I know I'm a goner."

"Shh," she breathed, pressing her finger lightly against his lips. "Don't talk like that. You're tough, you're young, you'll pull through this, and in a little while we'll be joking about it over drinks at O'Malley's."

He raised his hand to hold hers, and pressed her fingers to his lips to kiss them. "Cassie. Before I die, I do need to tell you something."

She shook her head. "No, Eric. Don't give up on me. Save what you need to say for when I take you to dinner after all this."

He smiled as warmly as he could and blinked lazy eyes at her. "Cassie. I love you. I never told you, and you'd never have noticed. But I wish for just one second that you could have …" he had to stop to cough again. "I wished that you and I …"

"Eric," she begged as she let her tears roll heavily down her cheeks. "Please don't."

"I'll watch over you, I promise …"

She shook her head. "Eric. Please no."

There was no response from him to her plea. His eyes, open and glassy, stared at her in contentment as his last breath escaped noisily through his parted lips.

"Oh God," she sobbed as she searched his neck, and then his wrist, for a pulse. "No Eric. Don't do this. Don't die on me."

Damien shed a tear of his own and turned his head to speak solemnly into his communicator. "Sarge. It's Knight."

The walkie talkie crackled with static as Barron answered the phone. "Are you guys coming out or what, Knight?"

Damien vainly attempted to ignore Princess sobbing into Eric's chest when he spoke and actually stammered through his own pain and sadness when he answered. "Officer down, Sir."

"God no," he responded. "Which one?"

He barely had time to open his mouth before a flurry of activity at the hole in the wall sent him shuffling backward toward Princess, who had frantically begun CPR on her dead teammate. "What the fuck?"

"Tiny, brace that beam. Lisa, Keyop, check for secondary explosives, Jason, look for assailants and neutralize all threats," Mark's voice ordered inside the din. "And get moving, we don't have much time before this place collapses."

Damien's eyes were wide and stunned at the blur of colours as the team immediately dispersed to follow the orders of their Commander. There wasn't argument or question, each did exactly what they were told.

It wasn't until he heard the sobbing pleas of his partner that he took his attentions off the G-Force team, and back to his own. His heart broke at the sight of the woman who he thought was the strongest he'd ever met.

She was a broken mess, covered in blood, soot, plaster powder and dirt, as she continually attempted to resuscitate Eric.

"Eric, please. Please wake up. You can't die," she chanted over and over between administering mouth to mouth and compressing his chest. "I won't let you die."

Damien tried to reach out to her. He lightly touched his hand to her shoulder. "Cassie. He's gone, honey."

"No," she breathed desperately. "No. I won't let him die. We all walk out of here together, as a team."

"Cass. Come on. This place is going to collapse, we have to get out of here."

"No!" she snapped at him, pausing in her actions for only long enough to fire him a deathly glare. "I won't leave without him. I won't leave a teammate."

He tried to coax her away from him. "Cass. Come on. We can't do anything for him."

She growled dangerously and used both, bloody, hands to shove him off her. "I. Said. No. Leave if you want to, but I stay!"

Damien fell backward onto his rump and let out a sharp cry as his broken arm collided with the floor. "Cassandra. This is stupid!"

"Detective Knight," Mark's voice softly spoke from in front of where Princess knelt on the floor. "I'll get her out of here, please get yourself to safety."

Damien shook his head well aware of the tension between his partner and the Eagle. "Not without her, Commander."

Mark gave a gentle nod and slowly lowered himself to a crouch in front of where Princess was still trying to revive Eric. He watched her for a short moment and set his gloved hand on top of hers. "Princess. It's over, sweetheart. Let him go."

She shook her head and continued without looking at him. "He can't die, Mark. I won't let it happen."

"You need to get out of here."

She shook her head and paused only long enough to wipe at her eyes with the back of her bloody hand. "Together, Mark. A team leaves together. You taught me that so you should understand."

"Then let me take him out of here," he urged. "I'll be right behind you, he'll be right behind you. I promise. But you need to get out of here. Tiny can only hold up that beam for so long."

She finally raised her face to look into the blue eyes she missed so desperately for so long. "He was just a kid, Mark. It's not fair."

He held back his horror at seeing her blood-smeared, tear stained face, and instead raised his hand to cup lovingly at her chin. "I know, Princess. But there's nothing else we can do for him. Let him go."

"It's not that easy, Mark."

He felt his heart break at her misery, but still maintained his composure. "I know, Princess. Trust me, I know."

She gazed up at him from her crumpled position, her eyes pleading with him to let her continue. The warmth, empathy and familiarity of his returning gaze finally broke her, and she reached up to pull herself across Eric's body to crush herself to him.

"It's not fair!" she screamed loudly as she punched once into his chest and then finally collapsed against him.

He returned her embrace with as much ferocity as she did him.

"No, Princess. It's not."

She didn't feel him lift her from the ground and into a cradle-hold against his chest, but she felt his heartbeat and controlled breaths.

It was as comforting as she remembered, and she didn't want to let him put her down.

"Mark …" she sighed gently as she nestled in closer to his chest.

Mark, still maintaining the composure of the Commander of G-Force, held her close and turned to his second. "Jason, can you?"

Jason gave a firm nod and flicked his hand to Lisa to ask her to help him with Eric's body, not needing to hear the remainder of the request.

Mark was respectful to let Damien leave the rubble ahead of his own team. He was at least three steps behind him, and paused beside him as Jason and Lisa, sans G-Force wings, which had been used to cover the body of the fallen, carried Eric's body out first.

Damien saluted his teammate as his body passed him and lowered his head respectfully as paramedics and fellow officers swarmed him. He barely had a chance to glance back at Princess as he was led into a waiting ambulance.

Mark wasn't surprised to find himself similarly accosted by medical personnel as they tried to pry the woman in his arms away from him. He heard her give the smallest whimper and found himself only holding on to her more protectively.

"Commander," one of them probed gently. "We really need to take Detective Anderson back to the hospital for a check up."

He shook his head firmly. "She'll return to Centre Neptune with me. I can assure you she'll receive appropriate medical attention at that facility."

The paramedic frowned. "That's unnecessary. She needs to be with her team right now."

Mark grunted. "Yes, she does."

Thinking the Eagle was about to release the woman, the paramedic smiled and held out his arms. He was stunned when Mark simply walked past them toward the G-2, where the other four members of G-Force were waiting.

"Commander?"

Princess remained settled against her ex-lover's chest, basically ignoring all else, until she heard the cry of her partner as the paramedics attempted to set his broken arm and dislocated shoulder. She immediately struggled.

"Damien. Mark, I have to go," she mumbled hurriedly, fighting against Mark's hold.

"No, Princess. He's fine."

She fell from his arms, onto her knees, and winced as she drew herself to a shaky stand. "I have to go with him – he's my partner."

Mark grabbed her upper arm and tilted his head questioningly at her. "Princess. He's going to be fine. He's in good hands, now. You need to come with us."

She shook her head and stepped a single stride back from him. "No. Mark. I should be at his side. He doesn't have anyone – his girlfriend walked out on him, his parents are in a different state, he's only got me."

A hurt look briefly crossed his features at her urgency to be at Damien's side. "That scenario sounds very familiar."

She gaped her mouth at him. "Mark, this is different. This isn't about you and I. This …"

"Is exactly the same," he finished for her, barely flinching at the sound of the building only a handful of metres away from them collapsing into broken rubble. "It was easy for you to walk out on me …"

She shuddered at the sound, and at the reality that she could have been in there for the collapse, but continued to step away. "I have to be there for him."

He took her wrist in his and gruffly tugged her a few inches closer to him. "Did I _ever_ mean anything to you, Princess?"

She blinked in shock at the question and tilted her head with a frown. "What?"

"Did you ever love me?"

She looked at him in complete confusion, and took a moment to look to Jason for confirmation of the question before she looked down where their hands were joined. "Of course," she answered softly as she tugged her wrist free of his hold. "I loved you …" She hiccupped and looked back up into his face. "Love you more than my own existence."

"Then how could you do it?"

She turned to the side and shook her head, answering as if he should have _known_ the answer to the question.

"To protect you."

She abruptly ended any further conversation by jogging over to where Damien was fighting the paramedics to leave him alone.

As she boarded the ambulance, she stopped in the doorway and turned back to G-Force, and Mark. She smiled at them before being closed in by the paramedics.

Mark looked at the departing ambulance and felt his heart dip in his chest.

How could a woman so brilliant be so desperately dumb?

His head turned to Jason when he felt his second's hand on his shoulder.

"I'm never going to see her again, am I?"

Jason shrugged. "I don't know, Mark."

He sighed. "For a moment there … I didn't hate her any more, Jase."

"That's because you don't."

"God. I miss her … I need her."

Jason nodded. "Then take off that stupid uniform and go get her."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

The final rays of sunlight for the evening kissed at the brow of her infant daughter as Princess rocked her to sleep in an old wicker rocking chair beside her crib. The light was enough to make the young baby frown in her sleep, which Princess smoothed out with her lips as she gently kissed her goodnight

She held her little girl closer into her chest and felt the subtle rise and fall of her daughter's chest and looked back on her "rough" day at work.

And what a day…

Kharma always suggested that bad luck ran in threes. Today was most definitely testament to that. First, a confrontation with the man she loved. Second the unfortunate detonation of an explosive that should have been no more than a routine disarming. Finally, there was the death of a close colleague.

As far as days went this was as bad as it got.

She let a single tear fall from her cheek onto Amanda's forehead. The light tickle made her shift gently in her arms and open her mouth to gulp in a deep breath. Within a second she was back into her deep sleep. Trying not to wake her again, Princess stood from the chair and placed her gently into her crib.

"Sleep well, Mandy," she whispered softly as she smoothed his whisper-soft hair on her brow. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

With silence practiced from years of covert operations, she walked into the kitchen and opened her fridge.

Bumping into Mark today wasn't something that she could say was unexpected. With Jason and Lisa circling her in previous days, and working beside her G-Force replacement, meeting Mark was fairly inevitable. What was unexpected was his anger…

Like, who in the Hell did he think he was?

Who was _he_ to be angry with _her_?

_She_ was the one who had the right to be mad; _She_ was the one who was mistreated throughout their relationship and then was humiliated, fooled around on, then left with a young child to raise alone.

He should be down on his knees begging _her_ to forgive _him_!

Damn him!

She tugged up the shoulder of her blue boat-neck sweater and reached into the fridge for a Smirnoff Ice cooler. She stared at the frosty liquid in the bottle as she continued to let her mind work through things.

Mark should have been thankful that she kept his daughter safe and did everything she could to ensure she was fed, clothed, housed and loved. Her child had everything she needed and then some – she even denied herself her small pleasures, and sometimes a meal, just to make sure she were treated as she should be … as the child of the Eagle should be.

The reference in her mind to the Eagle made Princess hiccup and blink to bring her senses back into the now.

She was more than the daughter of Mark Cronus. She was the sire of the G-Force Commander. The Eagle.

She blinked then looked down, wide-eyed, at the tiled floor.

The Eagle's child should have constant protective presence at all times.

She was a target.

She quickly glanced back at Amanda's room and squinted to peer through the slightly ajar door.

Okay. She was okay. Okay. Hell, she was once the Swan. She was more than capable of protecting her baby. She would kill herself to ensure her safety.

With a matter-of-fact nod of the head, she twisted open the bottle of vodka and took a long draw back on it.

Yes. She would die before she'd let her get hurt – Because that's what mothers did.

She pursed her lips and strolled to the window of her lounge room. She inhaled a long breath and took a seat on the wide ledge to look out into the street.

If the enemy thought she was a lethal opponent before, just wait until they encountered her now …

Her eyes fell to the flashing red lights of a speeding police car on the rain-wet road below, and her lips pursed proudly at her colleagues. No matter what the danger her fellow officers would put themselves out there for the better good.

Much like G-Force.

She looked away from the window and gazed sadly at the ratted carpet on her floor. One denim-covered leg bent upward so that she could nestle her chin into her knee and embrace her leg in her arms. Her cheeks were tight with drying tears, and eyes were wide as they dryly stared into nothing.

She thought that by staying away from Mark and G-Force and the dangers associated with the job was protecting her daughter. Losing the guarantee of one day orphaning her child because of battle was one of the main motivating factors behind it; but she ended up pretty much ensuring the same fate by falling into an almost identical profession.

In-Fact, she was probably at a higher risk of dying working with the Bomb Squad than with G-Force. Mark, Jason and the boys were always standing in between she and death – they'd never let her die. As much as she counted on her fellow officers, they were unlikely to take the same stance with her.

Her other knee snapped up to her chest as her back straightened into a bolt-upright position. Both her hands flew to her mouth in realization of what she had done and was doing.

She'd put herself and her child at more risk by working with the enforcement teams, and living in a "fixed income" apartment complex. And in doing so denied her and her father the right to …

She gulped deep to swallow a sob and inhaled hard enough to vacuum her hand to her mouth and nose.

"Oh God," she groaned miserably. "What have I done?"

She felt the trickle of a tear roll over her fingers and gazed down at her cordless phone at her toes. Perhaps it was time to call her ex and arrange an introduction with his child.

Her hand shook as she leaned down and picked up the phone. Her breath held as she tapped in a familiar number not used in well over a year. She brought it to her ear and heard the first ring on the receiving end. Immediately she gasped and quickly hung up before he could pick up.

"What do I say?" she asked herself quietly as she stared at the backlit screen as it quickly darkened. "Hi Mark, I know it's been a while, and you probably have a new girlfriend and life, but I want to know if you'll let me disrupt it but offering to introduce you to your kid."

She laughed inside her own tears at the absurdity of it. Why was she feeling so timid about this? Sure, he was mad; he hated her; but this was Mark. Mark. Mark…

Mark …

She closed her eyes at the memory of him and how he loved, and smiled. "I can do this," she whispered as she wiped at her eye with the back of her hand and hit redial.

She heard his soft-recorded voice request she leave a message and took a breath to do so. "Hi Mark. It's Princess." She sighed. "We really need to meet and talk about…" There was a loud chime of a dying doorbell, which halted her mid-message. Instinct made her eyes flick to the Felix-the-Cat clock on the wall. It was 10:35pm – Not the time for visitors. She closed a hand into a relaxed fist against her lips as she fell into silence at the window. She hoped the uninvited would assume she was asleep and leave her alone.

The bell rang again; this time with much more urgency.

She bit on the right side of her bottom lip and silently turned to let her feet touch quietly to the floor, setting the phone on the backrest of the couch. Her eyes slid cautiously along the side table at the door for weaponry as she approached.

Damien would still be in the hospital. Cronus wouldn't even knock. She knew none of her neighbours well enough for casual visits, and G-Force had no idea where she lived. That had to mean that this visitor was likely someone she really didn't want to see.

"Who is it?" She questioned timidly, unable to check as her peephole had long been covered with masking tape after being broken three months ago.

There was no answer beyond another chime of the bell.

Princess' hair stood on end. She had a bad feeling about the person on the other side of the door, but couldn't ignore it lest the chiming wake her baby. She splayed her fingers on the table and found her keys. She closed her fingers around them and shakily raised her hand to the door handle.

With a deep breath, she opened the door.

The identity of the caller made her jump backward in shock and expel a startled yelp of terror.

"Anson!"

Several green-dressed goons flanked Anson, who stood boldly in front of them with his face tilted so he looked across his cheek at her at her.

"Hello Princess," Anson breathed as he raised his face to look down his nose at her. "Long time no see."

Her eyes flicked to Amanda's room and then back to the group at the door. Her breathing came in panicked pants as she backed up toward the couch. "Not here, Anson. Not now."

He pursed his lips and slid his eyes up and down her body. "Why not?"

She shook her head and stumbled against the cushion of the couch. "Just not here. If you want to kill me, beat me, or whatever, then fine, but not here."

"Why?" he asked quietly. "Might we wake the baby?"

"Leave her out of this."

"I'm afraid not," he smirked as he clicked his fingers to the goons behind him. "She's why we're here."

The goons silently filled the room and stood with puffed, obedient-style chests poses waiting for command.

Princess panted and shook her head, terrified and wondering when her protective instinct was going to kick in and give her the ability to beat each and every person in the room to a bloody pulp. "If you even think of touching her, Anson, I'll kill you."

"Ahh," he hummed with an open mouth, "the thought was made a long time ago. And don't worry. I'm not here to hurt her, I just want to borrow her a while – for the rest of Mark's life." He turned his head to the goons behind him. "Go get her."

Princess' head ticked to one side. Within a whisper of a heartbeat, she let out a loud yell and leapt from her position at the window toward the baby's room. "No! I won't let you take her."

Anson set his hands on his hips and laughed as she pressed her back against the door and shook her head to deny the goons entry to the nursery. "You don't stand a chance, Princess. Save us the time, and your death, and just give her up."

She slid down into a crouch and readied to face the ten-or-so men in front of her. "I'll die before you touch her."

He shrugged. "Then sobeit. Guards, kill her."

Her lip curled as she let out a low growl. She felt a shift inside her as she counted off the guns and weapons in front of her. Knowing instinct had finally come to play, she twisted one shoulder and launched herself at the goon in front.

Her mouth opened with the hit of her shoulder into his chest and called out a phrase she'd not used in a long time.

"Mark! Help me!"


	8. Chapter 8

She cast her eyes up to the tenth floor, where she knew a battle was about to take place; a battle of one protective mother against 13 men.

She hadn't wanted to go up there and play as Mala had ordered; she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had no real issue with attempting to do painful things to the ex-Swan and humiliating her big brother. That was easy, and likely a lot of fun.

What she was having trouble stomaching was the involvement of the baby. She was, after all, her niece. She was an innocent in all of this.

It wasn't cool.

She chewed on a fingernail as she stared up at the balcony she assumed belonged to Princess. She'd jumped the nail-biting hurdle in her 16th year of life, and had rare relapses only during times of stress and self-loathe. Right now, she'd managed to bite her thumbnail down to the quick. She could taste the blood on the tip of her tongue.

Why did she bring up the baby to Mala and Zoltar? What did she think was going to happen; that Mala and Zoltar would simply congratulate her on becoming an aunt and forget about it?

Of course not.

Of course they'd find a way to exploit the information to defeat G-Force.

She spat a piece of bloody nail from her mouth and went right back to gnawing on it.

Curse her and her bravado, her need to be the big one on campus with all the information and know-how. Now she'd put an innocent little child in danger and likely killed their mother.

She cast her eyes to the back seat of her Denali, where an Alpha-Omega car seat was installed.

She'd at least make sure she were as safe as possible while in Spectran hands.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

"Take a left here, man."

Mark shifted his eyes from the road and looked toward Damien in the passenger seat. He'd actually taken Jason up on his suggestion of going after Princess to have a talk through things, but had twice gone to the wrong hospital in search of her. When he finally did get the right one, Princess had already left, and Damien was being discharged.

Being that he was a considerate softy when in the presence of someone hurt on the field of battle, he offered the young man a ride home. Obviously Damien was more than grateful to accept an offer of a ride from the G-Force Eagle.

He'd done little more than yak about everything and nothing since he climbed into the car.

Mark didn't mind so much. Damien seemed to be a trustworthy and honest kind of guy who was close to Princess, enough to want to keep she and the baby safe from harm.

"So down to business then, Commander," Damien finally uttered upon realizing Mark wasn't really in to small talk.

The side of Mark's mouth twitched. "What business might that be, Damien?"

"Cassandra," he said simply, no longer interested in beating the bush, so to speak.

Mark blinked slowly, but kept focus on the road. "I'm really not sure that's any of your business."

"Yeah it is," he countered as he leaned forward to adjust the air conditioning temperature. "See. She's my partner…"

"Which makes it your business, how?"

Damien smiled and raised a palm to Mark to ask him to hold off on talking for a moment. "I dunno how it works in G-Force, but in …" he smirked and nodded his head in a silent chuckle, "In B-Force.."

Mark slid his eyes to him and groaned painfully at the lame attempt at joke. "That's bad, man."

"Uh –uh, anyway. In my unit - in the whole force actually - partners are … well they're family. More than family. A man's partner is like the left side of his brain. Your reliance on them surpasses anything else. More than an infant's need for his mother, a man relies on his partner."

Mark's brow rose high, but he let him continue.

"Anyway. Cass and I have been through a lot. She's pulled me from the fire, held my back, and been there when I needed to fall apart. I've helped her through trials and hardships, taken shrapnel for her and been her ear when she needed to let it out." He folded his arms across his chest and slouched in the seat. "There's love and trust there, man. It might not be what you had with her …"

"Have," Mark corrected softly. "Have with her. Just because we're apart doesn't mean I don't …"

"Then where have you been?"

Mark's brow rose. "Excuse me?"

Damien looked squarely at Mark. "Where have you been? She needs help, man, and she's not getting it."

Mark curled a lip. "Ask her why."

"She's a clam when I ask about you."

He let out a long breath. "So you knew about me, then?"

"Not that you were the Eagle. But I know whoever it was she walked out on meant a hell of a lot more to her than. Well, than…"

"It's a long story."

Damien tilted his head and cast his gaze to the road. "I get that you don't want to go into detail. But I have to know one thing before I tell you how to find her."

"What?"

"Did you ever strike her?"

The answer was immediate and darkly sincere. "No."

Damien seemed to be content with that answer. "Good, because I'll let you in on a little fact. You hurt her in any way from this moment on; you'll have an entire police force on your doorstep that won't be worrying about warrants."

Mark actually smiled. "I'll remember that."

"And," he added with a serious expression, but a joking tone of voice, "I have access to explosives that make even your Falcon purr …so…"

"Yeah yeah," Mark laughed. "I hear you."

"Seriously, Mark. She and the little girl, they're special."

They pulled up at a red light and Mark nodded. "Which is why I love her like I do."

The loud ringing of his cell-phone through the car stereo system made both men jump. Mark quickly leaned down to press the answer button. "Damn thing, always rings at the most inopportune moments." He pressed the button. "Mark speaking."

Damien laughed. "So formal."

Mark shifted his eyes up at his passenger in disapproval and clicked his cheek when the only answer he received was the beeping of a disconnect signal. "Damn hang-ups."

"Telemarketers," Damien flatly remarked. "Happens at home all the time. I'd figure you guys would be on some brilliant do not call provider or something."

Mark sat back up and pressed his foot on the accelerator to get moving again. "If I used the Federation phone, yeah. That damn thing is still in its box on top of my desk. I've had this one since I was eighteen, same number, same provider. I actually prefer it."

Damien shrugged. "Hey, I'm with you on that. The things they have out now you need a damn PhD in order to use it. Just give me an old basic Motorola that does nothing but make phone calls, and I'm fine."

Mark smirked and pointed at the old basic Motorola sitting in its holder on his dashboard. "That we definitely agree on."

The phone began to ring again. Rather than answering another hang-up, Mark just chose to ignore it. "If it's important, leave a message."

"What if it's a hot looking chick you handed your number to at the bar?"

"The only hot looking chick I have ever given this number to is Princess."

Damien smirked and leaned forward with a squint to read the call display. "And speak of the devil. That's Cassie's number."

His eyes widened and he practically skidded the car sideways as he slammed his foot on the brake. He fumbled trying to find the answer button. "Hello? Hello?"

Damien laughed as he flicked Mark's hand away from the phone to casually answer it. "Gee. Cool under pressure? Not."

His efforts were rewarded with the beep of the dial tone.

Mark groaned long. "Damn. Please, Prin. Please leave me a message."

"Don't worry, she's a message box whore, trust me. She'll leave you something long-winded. I've lost count of the times she's used up the full three minute message limit, then had to call back three times."

Mark smirked through his own disappointment. "Yeah, she's left me messages like that before."

Damien frowned a little. "You know. It sounds to me like you and she were pretty tight. What happened to split you up?"

Mark shook his head and pursed his lips. "I really don't want to talk about it."

He shrugged. "Well. Whatever it was, I hope the two of you can work through it."

"Me too," he sighed as he dropped his eyes to the phone when it beeped receipt of a message. "He leaned forward and tapped through the menu to retrieve it. Her unsure, but soft, voice made him smile.

"Hi Mark. It's Princess. We really need to meet and talk about…"

In the background he could hear her doorbell chime, and then relative silence and the distinct silence of someone holding their breath. The strangeness of her reaction raised a brow on his head and he looked across at Damien only to see the young man held the exact same expression.

Neither man actually said a word as they both listened hard.

For more concentration, Mark pulled off the road and killed the engine. He turned the volume to full and carefully undid his seatbelt.

The bell rang again, and Princess' breath was heard to expel and hold again.

Mark knew that sound intimately. Princess was worried about who was beyond the door.

"Damien, are you good to drive?"

Damien had already unfastened his seatbelt. "Cast or no cast, man. It's faster if I get us there."

As the sound of the phone being set on a soft surface loudly crackled through the speakers, Damien opened his door and rushed around to the driver's side. Mark slid across the center console to take up a chauffeured position.

Her timid question quietly called through the phone. _"Who is it."_

Damien quickly snapped on his seatbelt. "We good?"

Mark nodded and leaned closer to speaker to hear. "Get me there, Damien. Don't mess around."

Damien threw the car in to gear. "Then hold on tight, man."

The next time they heard her voice it was a frightened yelp. _"Anson!"_

Mark's eyes flared. "He's out?"

"Who's Anson?"

Mark didn't answer. He raised his communicator to his mouth and called to his team. "This is G-1 to all members of G-Force. This is a code red emergency, please respond."

He was vaguely aware of the four return calls from his team. His attention was more on the conversation going on through the phone.

"_Hello Princess. Long time no see."_

"_Not here, Anson. Not now."_

"Why not?"

"_Just not here. If you want to kill me, beat me, or whatever, then fine, but not here."_

Mark's breath drew in fast and exhaled in a threatening grunt. "Can you drive any faster?"

Damien floored the accelerator and swiftly pulled his cell-phone off his belt. Doubling as a walkie talkie, he lifted it to his mouth. "I'll call for back-up."

"I'd appreciate it," Mark snarled. He lifted his wrist to his mouth. "All members of G-Force are on alert. Princess is under attack team. Follow my signal for rendezvous."

The conversation continued.

"_Why? Might we wake the baby?"_

"_Leave her out of this."_

"_I'm afraid not. She's why we're here." _

Mark punched at he dash. "Dammit. That's low, even for them!"

Damien hissed another request for assistance into his phone. "Who are "they" Mark?"

"Spectra."

"_If you even think of touching her, Anson, I'll kill you."_

"_Ahh, the thought was made a long time ago. And don't worry. I'm not here to hurt her, I just want to borrow her a while – for the rest of Mark's life_. _Go get them."_

"_No! I won't let you take her."_

"_You don't stand a chance, Princess. Save us the time, and your death, and just give her up."_

Mark felt his heart drop at the repeated clicking sounds from cocking weapons through the phone. "God. Damien, hurry, please!"

"I'm doing the best I can, Man. If you'd gone speed over torque, we might have had a better chance."

"I didn't pick the vehicle. It's Federation issue."

"Look, there's a black and white, I'll use it as a dozer. Just hang on, man."

Mark raised his eyes to a police vehicle in response mode, and gave a nod. His eyes dropped to the phone and the ongoing trauma the mother of his child was going through. "Hold on, Princess. We're coming."

"_I'll die before you touch her."_

"_Then sobeit. Guards, kill her."_

There was a grunt, and a scuffle. Then a cried request that seemed to tear his heart from his chest.

"Mark! Help me!"

As if a season finale of a favourite TV show ending in a cliffhanger, the phone message line cut dead.

"Princess? Princess!" Mark pulled the phone roughly from the holder and held it to his ear. He yelled her name again and threw it at the dash when he realized it had cut. It had to be almost five minutes since she left the message. He prayed she was able to hold them off for his arrival.

"Damien. Tell me we're nearly there."

Damien pointed to a fast approaching apartment building. "That complex over there. I need another thirty seconds, Mark."

Mark curled a lip and ducked his head. "Which floor?"

"Tenth. The balcony with the pink railing is hers."

"Tenth, pink railing. Got it." Her rounded his arms and transformed into the Eagle. He lifted his arms to open the sun-roof to his car and hauled himself up through the top. "Keep the speed, Damien," he ordered firmly. "I need the resistance."

"What?" He tried to keep the concentration on the road. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"They want my attention. They've got it," he answered as he held firm onto his wings and prepared to leap upward. "I'll die before they do."


	9. Chapter 9

Her breath drew in haggardly as the pressed her back against the corner of the doorframe to give herself a moment to prepare for another defensive. She didn't know how long, exactly, she'd been fighting for her daughter's life; but it felt like an eternity.

Her jaw quivered with indecision and exhaustion as she sized up another two green-dressed goons who held large guns and approached with a caution that gave her the time to attempt to ignore more of Anson's callous laughing.

"Cronus," she growled low, "where are you?"

She pressed her palms into the doorframe and used the leverage to push herself off and into a short twist to kick into the stomach of one attacker as she swiped her fist across the cheek of another.

Colonel Cronus and his men should have been here by now. He'd promised her there was a 24-hour surveillance on her apartment. There was no way that she should have been facing this alone.

Anson laughed at her breathed question. "Waiting for the cavalry, Princess?"

She thrust an elbow into another goon's gut and stumbled again into the doorframe. "Someone will come, Anson. I promise you."

He set his hands on his hips and laughed when he watched her slump and attempt to maintain a cool breath. "Oh no, Princess. There's been an emergency. All of Cronus' men have been dispatched practically on the other side of the country. You, my dear, are alone."

"What about G-Force?" she hissed as her breath heaved her shoulders up and down. "Have you forgotten about them?"

He could hear the doubt in her voice. G-Force wasn't coming. "God, I wish! Zoltar would be thrilled if I took out your beloved Commander and took his child all in one foul swoop."

Princess' look darkened – he'd called her bluff. "You won't take her. I won't let you."

"Ha," he laughed as he took a handful of steps toward her. "Because you'll die to prevent it?"

She snorted.

He stepped yet closer, backing her up against the door enough to make her raise her head to look down her nose at him. "You dying will only make it easier for me to take her." Her breath hitched as his hand lifted to her face to stroke the back of his hand down her cheek. "Ultimately she comes with me, Princess. You may as well just give in and let me take her."

"Never!" she snapped as she swatted his hand from her face. "Don't discount Mark coming in to protect us."

He ticked his tongue and tilted his head in mock sympathy. "Oh. How can I expect that when he doesn't know I'm here, you're here, or that his kid is – that he even has a child?"

She couldn't fight the sting of withheld tears. "He knows, Anson."

He smiled and leaned his mouth close to her ear, thrilled that she appeared as defeated as he thought she was. "I know he doesn't. I know you've hidden her from him." His voice was a loud whisper. "I know everything, Princess. Everything."

"Don't be so sure of that." Her voice was too shaky to be genuine. "You don't know anything."

He grinned and pressed both hands into the door under her arms. "Oh, but I do. I know things about you and Mark that not even you know."

She snorted hard enough for it to be wet, and inhaled quickly to save the need to wipe. "Don't be so sure of that."

"Hmm," he hummed as his nose rubbed against hers. "I know something you don't."

Her mouth opened to gulp in a breath of air. "Such as?"

"This whole mess with your beloved ex-commander …" He pulled his head back to glare triumphantly into her eyes. "Is just so brilliant it makes me hard to think about it."

She let her gaze wander from his to assess the conditions of the remaining goons standing behind them. She was stunned to find there were more entering the room behind Anson. "I'm glad you're excited by it."

The oozing sarcasm that dripped from her hit-swollen lips made him chuckle. "You know, Princess. He didn't actually sleep with her, you know that don't you?"

Her gaze immediately snapped back to Anson. Her eyes were flared wide. "What did you say?"

He pushed himself back off the door and took a couple of long steps away from her. "Oh come on, Princess. This is Mark we're talking about; the perpetual virgin." He smirked and turned his back to her. "Do you honestly believe he's capable of screwing around behind the back of the woman he loves?"

Her hands flew to her mouth as her head slowly shook from side to side in disbelief. "No…"

Anson turned only his head to look down his shoulder at her. "No indeed. He and Melissa may have spent the night together, but there was no sex. He turned her down flat."

"What…?"

"Oh yeah, baby," he smirked.

"Oh, God," she breathed. "All this?"

He laughed. "Yes, all this. Eighteen months of hard time not only for me, but also for the Eagle and Swan. G-Force in turmoil; A baby without a father; pain and suffering; tears and heartache; stuff only a Mills & Boon novel could create." He dramatically wiped at an imaginary tear and turned to look at her again. As his eyes swept across the room his breath caught. "Mark…"

Princess immediately flicked her head to take in what had obviously unnerved Anson. She couldn't even react when she saw the reason. All she could do was gasp and shakily hold on to the door handle to her child's bedroom.

It wasn't Mark just inside of the balcony door. It wasn't even the Eagle. What stood at the open door, with a lowered head and clenched fists was unrecognizable except for the red, white, and blue uniform of the G-Force Commander.

The creature inside the uniform slowly shifted his face to the side with a dangerous crack of the neck. His eyes, steeled and grey, maintained a hard glare on Anson, who for his part seemed pretty nonchalant. Mark's words, when they finally emerged from within, were calm, quiet, and full of warning.

"I think the lady wants you to leave."

Anson's brow flicked upward. If it weren't for the line of beaded sweat on his temple, one wouldn't have believed he felt in the slightest uneasy. "My understanding about the lady, Mark, is that she's the one who does the leaving."

Mark lowered his head and let out a single huff of a laugh as he took a single step toward Anson. "Do yourself a favour and walk away now." He raised his eyes, but not his head, to his prey.

"Not before I take what I came here for."

Mark took another two steps of advance and cast his eyes to Princess. His eyes did a careful scan of her physical state before sliding back to Anson. "And you want us to stand aside and let you take it?"

"That would be very courteous of you."

Mark smiled on one side of his mouth, and then licked at his lip. "That's fine, as long as you pay me the same respect." His head tilted at the sound of a cocking weapon, but he essentially ignored it. "Tit for tat and all that."

Anson curled a lip. "Why do I get the feeling we're both here for the same thing?"

Mark continued his advance. He replied only with a smirk as he slowly raised his hand to Anson's throat. In a snap much like the breath of lightning, he had him held off the floor, against the wall, with only one hand on his throat. He moved his face in close to his, as Anson had done earlier to Princess, and curled a disgusted lip.

"Actually, what I want is you drawn and quartered and your pieces staked in front of the Spectran headquarters."

Anson gagged and brought both hands to his throat in an attempt to pry himself free from the Eagle. "You're outnumbered, Mark. You can kill me, but the men here will take what we came for."

Mark tightened his grip. "Care to place a bet on it?"

Princess, from her area of sentinel surveillance, let out a breath she wasn't totally aware she'd been holding. "Mark. Don't do this. He's not worth it."

Mark relaxed his grip only long enough to glare in the direction of his ex-third. "Compared to what he's taken from me, his life is nothing."

She wanted to walk forward, but was wary of the other occupants in the room. "Mark, don't. This isn't you."

Mark didn't look at her. Instead, he kept his eyes on Anson, who was turning a deep shade of magenta as he continued to gasp for breath. "I haven't been me in a long time, Princess, and this piece of dirt has everything to do with it."

"Mark, please …"

He ignored her as he released his hold on Anson's neck, but quickly grabbed fistfuls of his purple shirt collar. He slammed him hard against the wall a handful of times. "Do you hear that, you piece of garbage? Does that make you and your cronies up on Spectra happy? You ruined everything in my life. You took my wife, my child, my privacy, almost destroyed my team, all for what? For what? Nothing! You and your group of petty terrorists are no closer to world domination than you were before this whole war began!"

Princess pleaded from her position at the door as she heard the first whimpers from the baby since the attack began. "Mark. You have him, let the police deal with him now."

He kept his glare on Anson, but directed his words to Princess. "And his loyal group of goons?"

She inhaled quickly and held her breath at the standing group of around ten goons who were, surprisingly, not making any move to attack. "I've heard about twenty squad cars pull up outside, this whole block is flashing red and blue. Let the police deal with them. We just need to get Mandy out of here –she doesn't need to see this."

Mark lowered his head, but kept his hold firm on Anson's shirt. "Why, Princess? So they can be out of jail in twelve months to try again?"

"That's justice, Mark."

Mark tightened his grip on Anson's shirt, but did not press him harder into the wall. "And she's my daughter."

"…Who needs her father."

He gave a short laugh. "You say that now."

Anson blinked his eyes between Mark and Princess, and let the quiet between them be his escape. He tugged himself free and fell sideways against the wall to get away from the grip of the Eagle.

"I was wrong, Mark, okay? I see that now. I'm sorry."

Anson wanted to laugh – what a divine situation. Distraction in it's finest; and something he'd never expect from the Eagle. He found a safety position in between two goons and gave a long laugh. The sound made Princess look at him in shock and Mark raise his head regretfully.

"How absolutely sickening. All I need is for you two to run into each other's arms and declare your love for each other, and I will officially be in diabetic shock." He saw the twitch of Mark's lip and took a cowardly step back. "The unflappable Eagle, forced into distraction by his Swan and little spawnling. No wonder you two were under a do not screw order. At least the Colonel had the right idea by walking away."

Mark's shoulders heaved singly with a deep inhale. He pulled his birdrang from his holster and launched forward at Anson. "Princess. I'm sorry, but this ends now."

He didn't register that she didn't answer him as his rang struck out into a goons shoulder on the way to Anson. He was aware that every one of the goons had suddenly sprung into action. He was painfully outnumbered. It wasn't until he leapt and kicked his feet into the chest of the soldier standing as sentinel in front of his target that he took a breath to consider Princess and her possible outnumbering in front of the baby's room.

He arched his body backward by gripping onto the helmet and hair of a goon as he drove his knee into his nose. He searched the dimly lit room for her.

"Princess!"

She was down on her knees, kneeling on the throat of a goon as she struck him across the face with her fist. Still holding onto her set of house keys, with one key strategically held poking out from between her middle and ring fingers, the blows were bloody. She wore a sash of blood from shoulder to hip from a hit to the goon's neck,

Her gaze shifted up toward Mark's warning cry of her name, but not quick enough to avoid the backward shove of a pair of soldiers. She fell forward to the floor, but immediately rolled to her back to get onto her feet.

A sharp hit of the butt of a rifle to her shoulder ended that plan, and sent her scrambling on her knees to the door.

"Mark!" she cried desperately, feeling the hard tug of an attacker on her ankle. "I can't …"

He pulled himself from the arms of a goon and leapt over the body of another. "Coming, Princess, just hang on."

He reached back into his wing to retrieve a feather and suddenly found himself yanked back. In surprise he looked over his shoulder. "What the fu…?" Two goons and Anson had a firm grip on his wing and were effectively holding him back from the door. "Give me a fucking break," he snarled as he grabbed at his neck to attempt to undo the mantle. "Jason, where are you, man?"

"Right here, Skipper," came the voice over the top of whizzing shurikens and clacking bolas.

Mark frowned as he struggled to undo the wings. "Took your time. Lisa, Keyop, protect Princess and the baby. Jase …"

"On it, Mark," Jason purred as he fired single shots from his gun into the chests of two of those hanging onto Mark's wings.

Freed, the eagle grabbed and spun another goon and launched him up over his shoulder, head-first into the wall.

Lisa slid on her heels to the floor beside Princess. Using the hair of the goons for leverage, she pulled them off the panicked Swan and held out her arm to pull her to her feet.

"Princess, are you …?"

Princess shook her head and bolted toward the now open bedroom door for the baby. "God, no."

Lisa followed closely behind Princess, gasping beside the swallow as they watched Princess' whole face warp into complete panic and horror that there was no child crying and reaching up for comfort.

"Sweet Jesus, no."

Princess quickly burst out of the room.

"Mark! They've taken Mandy!" Her voice was high pitched in a panicked scream. "We need to find her."

She was barely decipherable through her panic, but Mark understood her loud and clear. He gripped hard at the collar of the goon in his hold and flicked his head in search of Anson. His shoulders began to heave heavily as his mind tried to work past the horror to actually formulate a plan.

He looked first at the balcony, then at his Second. "Jase?"

Jason gave a firm nod, accented by a curled lip. "Damn straight, Skipper."

Mark looked back and pointed at Lisa and Keyop. "Protect her. Don't let her out of your sight for an instant."

Jason and Mark stalked to the balcony door, Mark dragging behind him a struggling green goon. He snarled as he grabbed the collar of another and pulled him face to face.

"You two are coming with us," he growled as he threw him into the chest of Jason.

The Eagle and Condor gave each other a look, and then took the remainder of the walk as a run. Together, with goons in hand, Mark and Jason leapt, wings flailing over the railing.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

"Knight, what in the name of Roger Daltry is going on?"

Damien angled his head upward to his Squad leader, who seemed to be ready more for a date than for duty. "To blaspheme is a sin, Sir. God's true name is Robert Plant. Remember that lest you get smited by …"

"Can the shit, Damien," he croaked as he thumbed his nose and glared around at the gathering of police vehicles that were flashing so much red and blue that the sky took on a static purple hue. "I'm missing my parent's 50th anniversary to be here, so it had better be good."

"You didn't have to come hold my hand, Sir."

"When one of my team puts out an emergency call to the entire police department, Knight, I make it my …" he stopped and gaped at a roar from above. He, and the entire attendance, looked upward at the sound.

Real time slowed to slow motion as they all gasped at the four bodies – illuminated only by the lights of the emergency vehicles – flying over the balcony of an upstairs apartment. The Eagle and Condor seemed to viciously cry out in the manner of their respective birdstyles as they released their enemies and hurled them to the ground, and then gripped at their wings to slow their own descent.

Damien flinched, as did most officers, at the deafening thuds of the two Spectrans wetly hitting the ground at their feet. "Oh God," he groaned as he turned his head away, missing the pin-point accurate and safe landing of the two birds, who immediately raised out of their crouches and separated in search of something.

Barron folded his arms across his chest and seemed to snarl at them. "I suppose I'd better call S.I.U., then."

"Better find out if Cass and the baby are okay, first, Sarge," Damien suggested as he pulled a small firearm from his belt and began a jog toward the building entrance. "The Eagle looks pissed off. That's gotto mean something's happened to them."

Barron grabbed hold of Damien's shirt to stop him. "This is about Anderson?" Asking about why the Eagle would be so interested could wait.

Damien looked down at Barron's hand and then raised his eyes to his face. "Why do you think I'm here, man?" He pointed at the Eagle, who was still except for the scanning sweep of his head. "Why do you think he's here? The birds don't usually play in our playground."

A long breath escaped through the Bomb squad leader's lips. He pulled is sport jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the bonnet of his car. He pulled up his shirtsleeves as stalked toward the building with Damien. "Just what threat are we looking at here, Knight?"

His question was answered by the barreling out of the door of a young man clutching tightly onto a small child. The force knocked Damien off his feet and landed the escapee into the center chest of the Squad's self-proclaimed "brick wall". He stumbled backward, pulling the screaming child closer against his chest.

"Get out of my way," he snapped as he backed off a couple of steps.

Damien's head tilted to one side and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously trying to look at the child. "What's the hurry?"

Barron held his chest out and brandished a badge. "Police, sir. I need you to come with me – it's for your safety."

Damien's eyes flicked at his Squad leader, then back to the strange man. He couldn't help but notice a small spray pattern of blood on the man's shirt that was transferring across to a pink blanket around the child. "Are you or the child hurt?"

The answer was given as a wet sniff and grunt.

"I'll ask you again," he warned as he adjusted the hold of his weapon at his side and raised his casted hand in a "Stop" manner. "Are you or your child hurt?"

The man, whose gaze was dark and on guard, let a fake moment of panic sweet across his features. "Just keep G-Force away from me. That Eagle is a lunatic!"

Barron didn't buy it, and growled low as he took a step forward. "Give me the child."

His eyes flared and he backed up against a wall. "No. She's mine."

Damien narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at the child, hoping that the sinking feeling in his chest would be unwarranted. A whisper of black hair and terrified red-rimmed, blue eyes confirmed his suspicions. Without a blink, he raised his weapon toward the perp's head.

"Sarge, it's Mandy," he said hoarsely and worriedly, not taking his gaze off little blue eyes that begged for their mother.

Barron expelled a growl and raised his weapon in an identical manner to Damien. "Hand the child over, Sir, or we'll shoot."

The perp, Anson, smiled a grin that showed bloody teeth. "No you won't." He pulled a gun from his pocket and raised it to the little child's head. "Kill me, kill her. Let me go, she lives."

Damien blinked and cracked his neck to one side. "Commander!" he called loudly, flinching in time with Anson. "Over here."

It was less than a second before Mark and Jason were at their sides, both scowling at the image of a coward with a gun in a child's face.

Mark fingered at his birdrang and patted his other downward in the air to tell Barron and Damien to lower their weapons. "Anson. Don't do this. Leave her with her mother. Take me instead."

Anson curled a lip in a snarky smirk. "Tempting, Commander, but orders are orders. If I don't bring back at least this kid, then I'm as good as dead anyway."

Mark took a step forward and immediately backed off when he saw Anson press the weapon harder into the child's head. The move made the little girl let out a frightened squeal. She struggled in his hold, letting out a loud cry of fear and displeasure. The sound was like a bullet in the young commander's heart. He winced and softened his voice to a beg, rather than an order. "Please Anson. She's innocent. Leave her out of this and take me. I'll hand myself to Zoltar, just don't hurt her."

Anson let a pleased expression pass his features. "How about you just do that? Although I think I'll be taking little Amanda here as collateral. You know. Just in case."

Mark shook his head. "No, Anson, please. Let her go."

"I really don't think so," Anson muttered in response. "You birds just can't be trusted. I am not going to fall for your tricks."

Mark threw his boomerang to the ground and ripped his communicator from his wrist. His body contracted painfully with the sudden discharge from the de-transmutation field, which caused him a slight stumble, but he maintained his stand and opened his arms in surrender. "There. I'm unarmed. I have no method of communication with the team. I am completely defenseless. Just give my child to these officers and I'll let you hand me to Zoltar." He was a hare's breath from dropping to his knees in an all-out beg. "Just don't hurt her, please."

Anson's response was muted by the desperate cry of Amanda's mother. All five men in the small group turned their heads toward a desperate cry from the side door of the building.

Princess, flanked by Lisa, ran out of the building, arms flailing desperately as she fought against Keyop trying to pull her back.

Mark angled his head in sympathy to her. Panic and anger had long been replaced by fear and desperation and he found himself fighting tears when he turned his head and spoke to Damien and Barron with closed eyes. "Please. Don't let her come closer." He opened his eyes to look at Damien. "You told me you two are close, she'll listen to you." He sniffed shakily. "Partners, right?"

Damien slapped his Squad leader on the upper arm and nodded in the direction of Princess, who was being held back by two officers and the Swallow. She screamed out for Mark, and then to Damien and Barron as they approached her. She collapsed against Damien, sobbing when he finally found his way to her.

Mark held his head high as he turned his attention back to Anson. He held out his wrists as if asking to be cuffed. "You know I'm a man of my word, Anson. Just put Amanda on the grass and take me. I promise you on my mother's grave that I won't back down on my deal."

"The Hell you won't." Jason grunted from beside him. "Don't let them win, Mark."

Mark angled his head toward his second. "Don't let him win? Jason, that's my daughter in his arms. I have no other choice but to let him win."

"I'll follow you," Jason growled to Anson, completely ignoring Mark. "I'll hunt your coward ass to the other end of the fucking universe and rip your balls out from between your legs."

"Jason!" Mark yelled in exasperation. "This isn't helping."

Anson agreed. "Maybe this time you should listen to your Commander, Condor."

Jason wiped at his lip and nose with a single swipe of the back of his hand. His voice was a deathly, ghostly moan as his eyes narrowed and glazed. "You walk away with that baby or my Commander, and I promise you every single one of your family members are next – starting with your little sister."

Mark's eyes shot open in shock, as did Anson's. "You wouldn't dare."

Jason actually smiled in challenge. "Want to take that chance, Asshole?"

Anson actually shuddered. "You're not in a good place to be making threats to me Jason."

"Yeah I am," he retorted with a dangerous smile that even made his best friend shudder beside him. "The Chinese have a great saying: "If you are going to remove the weed take it out by it's roots" which means I'll seek revenge for any pain and suffering on that child on your family."

Mark's eyes widened horrifically. He coughed and turned to push Jason back and away from Anson. "Jason," he snarled hoarsely into his face, "he has my little girl."

"And you're giving into him."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Fight."

Mark gave him a shove backward, sending Jason back onto his ass. "When you become a father, Jason, and your child is in peril I challenge you to feel the same then as you do now." He turned back to Anson and, again, opened his arms defensively. "Take me."

Anson, still shuddering from Jason's seemingly sociopathic threat, actually shook when he looked back at the G-Force Commander. Even the sight of tear-swollen eyes and a defeated stance couldn't remove the words of the Condor. He cleared his throat and felt his jaw quiver as he slowly shook his head. The shake of his head was so controlled and static, it was almost robotic. "No, Mark. I'm taking you both."

Jason was still on his ass, and was becoming more painfully aware of the desperate pleading from the raven-haired mother of the girl in question. He tilted his head to the side and clawed at handfuls of the manicured grass. There was absolutely nothing he could do.

Mark, finally done with fighting his tears, let his eyes spill over as he nodded and shakily agreed. "You win, Anson."

Princess' cry from her vantage point brought him to the point of choking on a sob.

"No, Mark! Please God no!"

He took a step forward. "I'm sorry, Princess."

Anson smiled at the whispered apology and waved his weapon at Mark in a demand for him to follow. As he took his first step to the side in escape, a loud crack fractured the breathless and heartbroken silence.

Mark, Jason, Princess, and all present gasped and raised their heads. Anson stood deathly still, his eyes wide and horrified.

The only sound, now, was the weeping of an infant.

Mark wiped at his wetted face. His fingers met viscosity that wasn't tears, and he brought his hand into his field of vision to find out what it was.

Red.

His fingers were red.

Blood. Blood and bone.

His eyes widened as he flicked his head up to the man with his child in his arms.

Where there should have been an ear, there was a bloody mess. Black and maroon in the lights from the police vehicles, the gaping wound immediately identified the cause and target of the crack.

His eyes then fell to Amanda and softened only long enough for the situation to dawn on him again, and as Anson's body began to falter, he leapt in to retrieve his baby. He nudged Anson's body backward as he leapt in to pull Amanda into his arms, and then fell onto his back in the grass.

As he struck the ground clutching onto his precious bundle, he saw Jason launch from his position and onto Anson. As if to make sure of the mortal state of the man, he fired three shots into his chest.

Then Mark lay still, moving only to curl himself into a foetal position to cocoon his child protectively in his arms. It was only then that he finally allowed his emotions to break free. His body convulsed several times in sobs of relief and fear. It wasn't until he felt Princess collapse onto him, over his back to hold both he and the baby, that he finally accepted that his family was safe.

"Who took the shot?" he whispered to her as she nuzzled her little girl's head and assured her that Mommy was here.

"I don't know, Mark," she answered through her own tears. "But I owe my life to whoever it was."

"Me too, Prin."

Both Princess' team and the G-Force team remained a polite and considerate distance from the reunited threesome for as long as they could before enforcement procedure demanded they intrude.

It was Sergeant Barron who stepped up and crouched before them, offering to take Amanda into his trunkfish arms. "Cassie, Commander. We need to get you out of here now."

Princess nodded and pulled her daughter from Mark's arms as she rose to her feet. With her free hand, she wiped at her face. "I can't go back up there, can I?"

Barron tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes as he shook his head. "I'm sorry Cass. But this is a crime scene now. The CSU will need to close it off for a day or two."

"God," she whispered, pulling Amanda closer in to her chest. "What do I do now?"

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

She pouted much like a child ready to cry and shook her head. She raised her palm to her forehead and hid her eyes behind it. "No. This is all I have, Sir."

"Ahh, shit, girl." He clicked his lips on one side and pulled his cell-phone from his pocket. "Let me call Leanne, I'll have her make up the spare room. You can stay with us until you get the apartment back."

She looked up as she saw the familiar white hazmat-style uniforms of the CSU begin to invade her building. "I don't know if I even want to go back."

"Then stay with us until you're comfortable," he offered as he set a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he added in an attempt at humour. "At least I can keep an eye on my best investigator. You can't fake a sick day."

"That'll be unnecessary," Mark interrupted. "They'll stay with me."

He raised a brow, looked at Mark and then Back to Princess. She was looking wide-eyed Mark in response to the comment. Barron ducked his head to her and nodded in a silent question of whether or not she was okay with that particular arrangement.

She finally blinked. "Mark, I don't know …"

He let one side of his mouth tip up into a smile and touched his fingers to her cheek. "I insist."

"But the shack …"

"…Is history. I have a three-bedroom home inside the Federation Estates. You and Amanda will be safe, I promise."

Barron seemed to agree with the offer, but wanted to make sure she felt the same. "Cassandra?"

She finally took her eyes off Mark and blinked quickly as she turned her face to look at him. "Yes, Sir. I … I think that's the best."

Mark moved toward her and lay his free arm across her shoulder. He looked toward his gathered teammates and gave them a nod of thanks.

"Come on, Princess. Let's go home."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Melissa didn't know how long she stood at the car with the large sniper rifle still aimed in the direction of where Anson once stood. She didn't know if her shot had been true and whether or not the baby was safe.

All she knew was that her face ached and her shoulder throbbed from the single shot from her high-powered weapon.

She finally blinked her eyes and rubbed them clear of emotion. She took a long, shaking inhale and looked into the scope to survey the scene.

Anson's body was dead on the ground and being swarmed by police officers.

Mark had his arm around the shoulders of Princess. He was leading her to safety – to a place unknown.

She took a step back and let the rifle fall from her hold. As if a dead creature, she looked down and shirked away from it as gingerly as she could.

"I'll help destroy G-Force," she muttered as she opened the door to her Denali and climbed into the driver's seat. "But I won't hurt the baby."

She lay her foot on the accelerator and kicked up dirt with the tires as she fish-tailed the car out of the gravel construction lot.

"I won't hurt her …"


	10. Chapter 10

Just a teeny-tiny warning on this one … I'll call it "Adult Situations" but we all really know it is a make out session with a rather climatic result … :grin:

Nah, not smut, don't panic… But I figure I'd better give you all a heads up.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

In all the years that he'd known her, he'd never know her to be shy, nervous or uncomfortable around him. Sure, she could play innocent and coy, but those were little games of hers that he could always see straight through. It was just one of those cute little games they played that was far less innocent than she was pretending to be.

So tonight he was somewhat mystified about how absolutely uncomfortable and uneasy she was. Shouldn't they just be able to immediately fall in to the same old routine that they always shared?

Sure, time had passed, things had changed and they'd both grown older and wiser; but he was still Mark and she was still Princess. Tonight they'd fought side-by-side, had been victorious, and had ended by falling against each other for support and comfort.

… Just like old times.

They'd ended the fight by leaving together, his arm across her shoulder, heading home to spend the night together.

… Just like old times.

Until she walked through the front door of his home and asked where to put Amanda.

He'd sheepishly dipped his head and ran his hand through his hair, forgetting that he hadn't really considered the sleeping arrangements in a home that, although a three-bedroom, was essentially a bachelor pad.

To her credit, she didn't huff, roll her eyes, or otherwise indicate her displeasure at the situation. She just offered him a weak, but thankful, smile and immediately set about trying to find the safest and most comfortable temporary solution.

She pulled a mattress off a high, single bed in the spare room and set it on the floor, laying her baby under a light blanket. Beside the mattress she set up a blanket on the floor for herself.

"I'll buy a crib tomorrow, Princess," he said lightly. "And I suppose a few more supplies to make Mandy more comfortable."

"That's okay," she replied in little more than a whisper as she kissed the nose of her daughter. "I should only have to be here for a day or so."

Her quiet comment almost didn't quite make his ears. His head tilted both to hear it better and to show his confusion. "You want to go back there?"

She rocked back on her knees, pressing her butt into her heels, and looked up at the ceiling. "What other choice do I have?"

"Here."

Her head rolled on her neck into a tilt to look at him awkwardly. "Don't, Mark. Please."

He folded his arms across his chest and frowned at her. "Don't what?"

"Don't …" she inhaled and swept her hand through the air between them, first to him, then to her, then back to him. "Don't make me need you again."

"Is that really so bad?"

She slowly raised herself to her feet and nodded as she slowly moved toward the door. As she reached where he stood, she looked up into his face. "It's taken me 18 months to try and forget you…"

"…And?" he interrupted softly.

"And I can't."

"Then don't," he whispered as he took a gentle hold of her elbows and tried to coax her toward him.

She took in a short breath and dropped her eyes to his mouth. Her eyes widened as her body both pushed from and pulled into him. She wanted to just roll up on to her toes and press her mouth against his, pull him tight to her and demand he take her to his bed, but found herself pulling back from him.

"I … I …" she stammered uncomfortably. "I … I need a shower."

One brow flicked upward at her. He pursed his lips to one side and turned, flicking his finger to ask her to follow. "I've put some fresh clothes in the bathroom for you."

Her lips pursed. "Let me guess. Your old #1 shirt with the stretched collar?"

He smiled. "It was always your favourite."

"Thank you, Mark," she said softly as she touched her fingers to the doorframe of the bathroom and looked sideways at him. "For everything."

He brushed his fingers along her cheek. "No need for thanks."

She forced a smile and backed into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, pressed her back against it and raised her head to the ceiling. Knowing he would be leaning on the wall beside the door in an identical manner as she was, she held onto any panic or worry and tried not to break down.

Murphy's Law was wrong. Bad luck and bad things did not run in threes – they ran in fours.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

She made sure to have as quick a shower as was possible. The more time Mark had by himself to think about things, the more dangerously thought out his arguments would be. It was going to be hard enough to find the energy to say no to him; she didn't need for him to be armed with his flawless rebuttals to any argument she could come up with.

And it wasn't like she didn't want to be with him, because she did. It wasn't the fear that she and her child would be unsafe, because under who else's roof would they be more secure?

She actually didn't understand the apprehension, herself.

She assumed the answer would come when she finally sat down and talked with him.

With a final breath of courage and a quick once-over of her appearance in the mirror she prepared to walk out. Princess brushed her hands over the familiar old shirt and tugged it down over the black pair of Hugo Boss boxer briefs he'd left in the bathroom for her to use as fresh underwear.

Admittedly she'd let out a giggle at his thoughtfulness. He'd even left her a brand new pair still in its box.

That was Mark, though. Thorough. Dot every "i", cross every "t". Cover all bases and leave no ends loose.

Jason called it anal-retentive. Princess called it adorable.

She smiled looking down at the short, loose leg of the underwear that was at least one-size too big. Not only did he remember that she liked this old shirt, but he also recalled she had a penchant for stealing his boxers from time to time.

For a second, she was back at the Shack, ready to walk out into his hallway and be whisked into his bed.

She let the memory kiss her mind's eye, and then focused back onto a wet mop of black hair.

"Time to talk," she sighed to herself. "Are you ready, Princess?"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

The first sound to meet with Princess' ear as she walked out of the steaming bathroom was the giggle of her child. It wasn't the giggle of a baby finding something around her amusing. It was the all-out giggle of a baby at play; a sound that she might hear only when she was rolling around the floor with her daughter.

Curiously, Princess peered around the corner to see if she might catch Mark in the midst of a game of peek-a-boo. She brought her hand to her mouth in amusement to see him swooping around the floor with Amanda in his arms as he pretended she was an airplane. He breathed out engine noises and gave her a commentary of flight as he flew her through the air.

Princess took a moment to just stand and watch as he spent his first moments as a father alone with his child. He seemed to re-ignite with the happy giggle of a little girl. The blue sparkle in his eyes and wide smile that she hadn't seen since childhood had reappeared. His stance and the way in which he held himself in this relaxed state seemed more proud than she'd expect even from the Eagle. Inside of the five minutes Princess was in the shower, Mark seemed to have dropped ten years from his age.

It was remarkable.

She pressed her hand on the corner to push herself into the room and paused when he stopped playing and simply held the little girl in his arms. He looked softly and adoringly into her little face as she blew saliva bubbles through her lips.

"Hi Amanda," he said softly as he traced his fingertip along her hairline. "I'm your daddy."

Amanda giggled and gurgled.

"I never thought I'd ever believe in innocence again. Not after what I see every day. But in you," he inhaled a breath and held on to it as he let his eyes scan over each of her features. "In you I see the answer to every question I have about me, who I am, who I should be, who I want to be. " He blew the softest breath across the top of her head and pulled her against his chest. "I promise you that I will never let anyone hurt you, Mandy. I promise you. I will die to protect you and your mommy."

His eyes jerked toward the hallway as Princess sniffed loudly while she wiped a tear from her cheek. His gaze softened and he slowly walked toward her.

"Tell me something," he breathed as he approached.

She took herself off the wall to step toward him. "What's that?"

"The love. Was it instant for you too?" At her smile he paused and looked down at the sleepy little bundle in his arms. "It's so overwhelming how intense it is. I know love," he breathed, "I mean I've loved you my entire life. But this …"

"This is different." She closed the distance between them and traced her finger along Amanda's brow line to coax her to sleep. "It's absolutely consuming isn't it?"

He focused on Princess and watched her coo to their child. "Yes. Yes it is." Her eyes rose to his and he waited for her smile before he finished his thought. "But at the same time it's just so liberating. I feel like I could take on the entire world and actually come out on top – like I've been completely renewed."

Princess angled her head gently to one side and cupped his face with her hand. She watched as he tilted his cheek into her hand and let her thumb trace his face. She smiled with pursed lips. "Just wait until you've spent a few weeks with no sleep through teething and tell me you'll feel the same way."

He closed his eyes and purred at her touch. "It's worth it, though. Isn't it?"

She nodded and shifted her hand to let the pads of her fingers graze across his lips. "More than you can imagine, Mark."

His eyes opened as he pressed his lips into her fingers in a kiss. "Please don't leave again."

She let out a breath and gently took her daughter from his arms. "I should put her back to sleep. It's late and …"

"Stay," he said quickly, not wanting to give her the opportunity to successfully skirt the subject.

She pursed her lips to let out a small shush and walked slowly into the makeshift nursery. She knelt to bundle the child inside a blanket and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight little Angel." She stayed on her knees for nearly a minute simply looking at her daughter. "Of everything you ever given me, Mark, she is by far the greatest gift." She drew herself to her feet, turned, and found herself pulled into his arms.

Mark held her tightly against him and studied her face. He said nothing as he wet his lips and dropped his eyes to her mouth. He barely breathed as he lowered his face and pressed his mouth to hers.

It began hesitantly, softly, more of a request than an actual kiss. It was lips against lips, firm, yet soft. It was a kiss more like that of two pre-teenagers just beginning to explore the wiles of adult affections behind the bleachers at school. It was tentative and unsure.

It was Princess who drew away first. She shifted her head back so slowly that Mark found his head tilted down after her as if unwilling to break their connection. He whimpered in disappointment at the light smack of separating mouths, which parted his lips slightly.

She didn't see it, but she certainly felt it, and without a second thought she hooked her arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down hard against her mouth. A growl rumbled inside her belly and she claimed him hard. Gentleness and apprehension shattered into oblivion as she felt his arms lock up around her and he drew her feet off the floor to walk them toward the doorway. The wetness of their kiss smacked loudly off the walls of the small room and seemed to only spur Mark to act more fiercely. He half stumbled in the doorway through his own impatience and pressed her up against the doorframe. He hooked his hands around her backside and forced her legs to part and circle his hips.

Princess couldn't fight the moan as she felt him between her legs. Her head dropped back to loudly pull out of the kiss and she found her own instinct rolled her hip to feel him up harder against her. He obliged and claimed the side of her neck with a wet slap of his mouth as he rocked his hips against her.

Her voice raised an octave at the familiar sensation of him against her and of her need to have him. Her sighs flew out of her as desperate whimpers that seemed to beg him to end the agony and simply take her up against the wall. His name was fairly indecipherable as it passed through her lips, but he knew she called to him. He slid his hands into the back waistband of her boxers and slowly teased them down off her hips, only pausing as the shudder of her body against him sent a shock of weakness through his body. The pleasure, heightened by the sudden bolt of weakness made him press against her harder, which elicited long, hungry moans from both of them.

As the sharpest moan reverberated off the wall and echoed into Princess' inhale, she found herself begin to pull herself away from Mark. His moans began to beg her as he continued to try to become a part of her.

She panted and shook her head. "Mark. Stop please."

He whined as his breath hotly pulsed against her skin. "Why?"

Her legs didn't relinquish their hold on his hips; instead they seemed to lock in to pull him closer. This brought a growl from deep inside his gut that hissed against her skin as his teeth scraped along her collarbone.

"Mark," she panted. "We can't do this."

His hips kept pushing hard against her and his fingers still pushed down the waistband of her boxers. "Don't pull away from me, Princess," he begged with his lips tight, open, and probing at her neck. "We need this."

Her head rolled backward. Her voice, nothing more than a hoarse whisper of longing, breathed past her lips. "Not here, Mark. Not in front of Mandy." She whimpered again as she felt the blinding pop of pleasure ripple from her center and up her back into her neck. "If she wakes …"

Mark didn't need to be told again. As the extended "s" from the last word lingered between them, he threaded one arm across her back and the other across her backside. "Is my bed okay?"

She nodded and answered her affirmative with only a breath through her mouth as she felt him lift her off the wall. She cupped his face with both hands and kissed him as he blindly took them through the hallway toward his bedroom.

Mark had her shirt up and over her head before he even got the two of them to the bed. Together they fell onto the ratted old duvet cover he'd had since childhood. Princess clawed at this as he slid down to run his tongue along the center of her chest toward her navel. His fingers slid, again, into the waistband of her boxers and he claimed a single breast in his mouth as he drew them down off her hips.

She arched her back and moaned out a long song of his name when he slid a hand over her to touch her. With a single stroke of his fingers through her wetness she felt her entire body seize up and contract in an involuntary climax so sudden it was positively painful. His name exploded from her mouth as her back seized into an arch that pressed her harder against his hand.

He was stunned that her body had succumbed so quickly and so violently at his smallest ministrations, but he didn't cease. He stroked each wild ripple of climax out of her, not slowing his movements until she pulled him up to kiss her when her body finally released. He fell, fully clothed on top of her and found himself chuckling into the kiss.

"Wow," he breathed as she panted underneath him. "That was fast."

She reddened and lowered her gaze from his. "I'm so sorry. You just. I just. You're always so good at that."

He smiled as his head shook and gently used the crook of his finger to lift her chin to look back up at him. "No. Princess. Don't be sorry." He dropped his face to pepper her lips with small kisses. "I doubt I'll have much more staying power than that when you let me take you."

"Which would be now," she breathed as she hooked her leg at his hip to tug his track pants down off his hips with her toes.

He growled low when his nakedness found hers. He rose to his knees and pulled her hips upward to watch voyeuristically as he entered her. As his hand closed around himself to guide himself inside her, they were both jarred by a booming call of both of their names from the front door.

"No." Mark whined as he relinquished hold of himself, and of her hips, and let his arms fall behind him. "Jason, why now?"

Princess gasped in horror realizing that the two of them were naked, and his bedroom door was wide open. Like a teenager caught by parents with the school jock, she immediately struggled from underneath him and leapt to the door. Her eyes were wide and horrified as she tugged on her shirt and then stumbled in search of her boxers.

Mark, for his part, just flopped onto the bed and looked longingly toward Princess. "Can I kill him?"

She tugged on the boxers and attempted to smooth out her damp and knotted hair. "Mark. Get dressed."

Jason's head poked around the doorway. He grinned at the panicked Princess and the defeated Mark. "You two need some time?"

"Yeah," Mark replied flatly. "How about you give Princess and I a few hours to catch up before you break into my place?"

Jason jangled a set of keys and grinned. "You gave me keys, Skip. It's not breaking in."

Princess huffed in embarrassment and lightly nudged past Jason. "Tell me you're alone."

He shook his head and tossed the robe hanging over a chair at the door to Mark. "You got a full house downstairs." He held up a fist full of shopping bags. "Lisa forced me to go …" he groaned painfully "…shopping."

Mark was reluctant to move and simply pulled the robe over the top of himself. "And that means you needed to come here in the middle of the night to complain about it?"

Princess chewed on her thumbnail and tried to get over her shame at being caught by Jason. "You really should call first."

He chuckled low. "And miss out on this? Are you kidding me?"

Mark, finally composed and sure he wouldn't embarrass himself further, reached down to pull his track pants on. He rose from the bed and strode past Jason with a deliberate bump to the shoulder. "Remember, Jase. Payback is a bitch."

Princess let out a small groan and slid out of the bedroom behind them. "Uh, I'm just going to check in on Amanda. I'll meet you guys downstairs." She rubbed at her brow and groaned when she heard Jason playfully pant and moan out Mark's name behind her. The teasing was quickly stopped, when Mark punched him in the shoulder and told him to "grow up".

She had to smile. For all the changes she thought they'd all grown though everything really seemed to be exactly the same.


	11. Chapter 11

When Jason had told her that there was a full house downstairs he hadn't been kidding. If anything, he'd been somewhat mild in his assessment of the amount of bodies gathered in the large family room of Mark's home.

When the busy murmurs and chairs shuffling across a hardwood floor met her ears on the stair landing, she felt a mild moment of panic. Much more than the embarrassment of Jason likely informing all gathered that he had interrupted something intimate between she and Mark, Princess felt a harsh sense of awkwardness at having to jump into an evening of explanation and assurances of being okay. She found herself looking up at the room with her daughter while entertaining the idea of slipping the both of them out of the window and back into oblivion.

At the sound of Mark's laugh at what must have been a hell of a joke, the feeling dissipated. There was no way he would allow anyone to put her through any of that tonight – at least not until he had held the privilege of hearing any and all explanations first.

She held her breath and let her exhale guide her into the room. She let a smile dance across her freshly glossed lips as she breezed into the room.

"Wow. Quite the party we have in here. She tugged her shirt lower and skittishly tilted to one side in a typical display of shy innocence. "Did my invite get lost in the mail?"

The words barely left her mouth before she was accosted by her partner, who actually managed to hug her, pick her up, and spin her all in one movement. "Cassie, baby. Your invite goes without saying." He set her feet on the floor but kept his hands on her hips as he looked into the small crowd. "Why have you been keeping these guys a secret from me? They're totally awesome."

She let out a short snort of amusement and cast her eyes at the gathering. As she had expected, the entire G-Force team was in presence. Each member held his or her own expressions of question at the way her partner so affectionately greeted her. At least one of them appeared to believe there was something more than just a _working_ relationship between she and Damien, but the question was quickly put to rest by a hard grunt from her Squad leader.

"Anderson, you wanna look into that whole sexual harassment thing yet, kid?"

Damien pulled back with a groan and held his hands up in defeat. "I didn't grab her ass, Sarge."

"I was preempting it, Knight."

Princess smiled as she slipped around Damien and wandered to the table. She ignored a rather crude comment from her partner that involved some form of retribution by an Eagle if he'd gone so far, and then pressed her finger curiously to her lip as she peered at the array of products on the table. "What do we have here?"

Mark looked up at her in total confusion as he held a device in his hand that she hadn't used in months. "I don't get it. What is this thing and how do I work it?"

Tiny looked up out of an instruction manual from his seat beside his commander and looked upon him with about the same expression. "Mark, it looks like some kind of torture device. Why the hell would a woman want to use something like that?" He looked down at a pair of batteries in his large hand and shook his head. "Does it have any other control on it than an on/off button?"

Mark shrugged and looked back down at the apparatus. "I don't even see that button, Tiny."

Princess coughed when she finally identified the device and cast her wide eyes over to Jason. "Where? Why? Who and how?"

He thumbed at Lisa, who was giggling over tying a ribbon around the neck of a teddy bear. "I told you, she took me shopping."

"You must teach me the secret," Princess managed with a smile as she picked up two jars of baby food from the table and analyzed the contents. "I've failed more times than won when it comes to dragging Jason into a mall."

Lisa giggled and pulled the bear into her chest as Damien flopped loudly onto the couch beside her. "I have my ways, Princess. And besides, I figured you needed a few things while you're here."

Tiny let out an "a-ha" and flicked his fingers against the page. "Here is it, Mark. Right here, it says: Place the suction cup over the nipple and …" Several disgusted groans blocked out the rest of the instruction and he looked up with complete innocence. "What?"

Princess face was red as she swatted the contraption out of Mark's hand. "I haven't used one of those since Mandy was three months old. Please put it away." Her eyes shifted to Tiny. "And, yeah, torture is an apt description for it."

Damien gave a snicker from his position beside Lisa. "Hey, you might be able to find a new use for it, Commander."

Mark's eyes rose in question. "Oh, such as?"

"Well, it is a contraption designed only to … You know."

"No, I don't."

Jason's eyes flared and he found himself almost gagging to laugh. "Oh, shit. That is just sick, Damien."

Barron grunted in absolute disgust at his investigator and made sure to give him a slap across the back of his head as he walked by to take up position beside Princess. "You're a sick asshole, Knight. I want to remind you that there are women present who really have no desire to have any insight into your back room filth."

Princess let out a small chuckle and set the jars of food back on the table. "Thanks for the supplies, guys. Just let me know how much I owe you."

Mark grabbed her hand and gave her a tug to sit down beside him. "It's okay, Princess. I've got it covered."

"But…"

"I've got it," he said again with a look to tell her not to argue.

Her lips pursed as she stumbled half onto his knee and half onto the seat. She tried to find her place on the chair, only finding comfort when Mark set his arms across her shoulder and pulled her against him. "So?" She asked softly with a rise of her face to Barron. "To what do we owe the pleasure of everyone's presence tonight?"

Barron folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know about G-Force, Anderson; but I'm here to make sure you're okay and to plan how we're going to handle this latest development."

Mark answered his concerns quickly. "She and Amanda will stay here with me and be under constant protection until we've neutralized this threat against her."

"Then I am sure you will appreciate that my department have their own concerns with her safety – and the safety of her fellow officers – and will therefore want to offer protection of their own."

Mark pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. "I'm sure we can come to a mutual arrangement, but I can assure you she's safe with me."

Princess tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled up from Mark to sit straight in the chair. "You bring up a good point about the force, Sarge. We don't know how much Zoltar and his armies know about my life and me now. If he has a fix on my involvement with the Bomb Squad then that puts you all in danger."

Barron gave a snort. "Exactly."

Jason flicked a tiny diaper onto the table, after having tried to decipher the apparent hidden meaning in the images, and dropped his elbows onto his knees to enter the conversation. "I think I speak for my Commander when I say that you'll all have G-Force's complete protection from herein."

Mark agreed with a nod. "That goes without saying." He rubbed at his chin. "I wonder if this has anything to do with the sudden rise in dispatch calls for your squad, Sergeant Barron."

Barron nodded. "I was wondering the same thing myself, Commander." He unfolded his arms to pass across a legal-sized manila folder across to Mark. "When you had your Falcon at our facility I began to look into the rise of incidents and the potency of the devices found." He watched Mark separate from Princess to take the file and check its contents. "There is a pattern, and I have to express my annoyance at your department not being exactly truthful in the reason for G-Force presence at my station."

Mark's eyes didn't rise from the file. "I assure you that Lisa's presence at your facility was for an unrelated reason."

"I find that somewhat hard to believe, when the second your operative arrived the shit began to hit the fan."

Mark's eyes rose slowly over the file to narrow at the sergeant. "Again. Lisa's presence at your lab was not …"

Barron let out a very low growl as his arm thrust out to point a large finger at the door. "I lost a man today, Commander. I would prefer not to know that this could have been prevented by a forewarning from your department."

"Just what are you accusing us of, Sir?" Mark snapped.

Princess rose quickly to stand in between the two heads of the teams. "Mark, Sir, please. Before we start flinging accusations and create a pissing war, how about we go through the evidence?" She looked at Barron and then back to Damien. "That's our specialty, guys. Let's look through this information and analyze the crap out of it before we start an all-out war."

Mark looked up at Barron. "I agree. I will assure you, however, that until yesterday I did not know that my Swan was part of your unit. Centre Neptune has been monitoring the latest rise in incidents, but have taken little interest in anything beyond the new compound."

Princess' lips pursed into a tired, but thoughtful "o" shape and she stretched up and ran both hands through her hair. As her arms dropped as far back as her shoulders would allow, she paused and tilted her head and body in thought. Her eyes glassed over and seemed to lock on the edge of the table.

Every person in the room, sans Lisa, knew the stance and sudden shut-off expression. They practically held their breath as she worked through the information at hand.

Lisa leaned over to Jason and whispered softly under her breath in question of what was wrong with the only other woman in the room. He answered her with a single "just wait" rise of his finger. Her question only grew as she watched Mark slip silently to a side table to retrieve a laptop computer. He set it on the table in front of Princess and moved back into his seat on the couch. He kept his eyes on her lips as she talked herself through her mind's filing cabinet.

As fast as the Swan's trance had begun, she snapped out of it. Her green eyes fired with life as she flicked her gaze to each person in the room. "I need a computer."

"In front of you," Mark said through a smile. "She's warmed up and ready to go."

Princess dropped to her knees and immediately set her fingers flying across the keys. "Federation access, Commander?"

"Of course."

Damien snuck up behind her. "Talk to me Cass."

Her voice was somewhat detached when she outlined her ideas. With her eyes on the monitor and her hands flicking between the keyboard and mouse, it was somewhat unbelievable that she was able to even talk and make sense.

"I have a hunch that we're looking in to this all wrong. We've been finding this black powder all over the city inside various city transportation outlets."

Barron grunted in the affirmative. "Which is why the investigation teams are suggesting the transit system is the target."

She twisted somewhat on her knees to look upward at him. "But then tell me. If we have found all of this explosive compound, where is the big bang?" She looked back down at the computer and tabbed between windows. "The compound we've found has all been in small quantities. There is never enough to have anyone actually consider them the primary weapon."

"Until you see the power of this stuff," Damien countered. "Cass. You know as well as I do that this shit doesn't need to be in large quantities to blow a building apart." He shot his head up to his Sergeant. "And don't bring it up, Sarge. I know you want to, but just don't. We are all painfully aware of me almost destroying the lab with it."

Barron snorted. "Why do I need to bring it up when you do it yourself?"

Princess allowed herself a moment to smile, but remained fairly quiet as she leaned her chin into her palm to analyse one of her report submissions to the Federation. "I'm not doubting that there is enough for a big bang, Damien. What concerns me is our assessment of the target."

Mark slid down off the couch and dropped on his knees beside her. "What are you thinking, Sweetheart?"

Her lips pursed at the scent of beer on his breath. She reached forward to take his bottle for her own swig. She answered as she swallowed, which made her have to clear her throat after the first word. "Well … The subway is a viable target. It would cripple the city, but ultimately end up little more than a major inconvenience that will result in a few lost productivity hours."

Barron dropped heavily into the seat that Mark had vacated and scratched at his nose. "Which, for a terrorist organization, is the main goal. Screw the city, make them lose some money, make their point."

Jason entered the conversation at this point. His forearms still sat on his knees and he slouched a shoulder to turn toward the conversation. "Spectra isn't a terrorist group. They are a bunch of asshole murderers and thugs, but their goals are much loftier than, say, that Muslim group from the turn of the century."

"Al Keda?" Lisa questioned softly.

Jason gave a nod. "This isn't a holy-war, let's fuck everyone up kind of thing. Spectra want to destroy everything and just take over."

Princess widened her eyes and nodded in complete agreement. "Exactly." She looked up at her squad leader. "Sir. This particular compound requires a secondary incendiary device to detonate. If any of these supposed targets were … well, targets, then there would be a complete unit, rather than just piles of black powder."

Barron nodded and rubbed at his chin. "And the subway thing?"

Damien opted to answer that one, and did so as he slid off the couch to his knees and shuffled over to Princess. "Couldn't have been more different. That beast had "amateur" written all over it." He looked at Princess as if to ask permission and waited for a nod before he slid the computer toward him. "Good girl, you hacked into the Police DB."

Mark smiled and brushed her hair over her shoulder with a gentle sweep of his hand. "That's my girl."

She chuckled in embarrassment when he dipped his head to lay a light kiss on her shoulder. She shrugged to the side to escape. "I didn't need to hack in, Damien. We have outside access."

"We do?"

Barron grunted. "Let me guess. You were sleeping through that particular seminar."

"Hungover, actually," he retorted as he scrolled through the network files for the report in question. "You really need to hold those things in a more appropriate venue if you want us boys to concentrate."

"Like where, Knight? A strip joint?"

Damien grinned a toothy smile as Jason expelled a "Yeah!" and double clicked an icon to open up his files. "Okay, here we are. Subway bomb. That one was an Astrolite mixture." He smiled at the sound of Lisa's inhale and held his hands either side of him as if to illustrate his explanation. "The bomber had Ammonium Nitrate in this chamber, and anhydrous hydrazine on this side." He threaded his fingers together to make an "X" shape with his fingers. "They need to combine to go boom. I call it the post-mix bomb. The compounds don't mix until right before detonation. There was, like a mercury switch…" He paused to seek confirmation from Princess to the actual construction.

Princess smiled and took over. "To put it simply, while the bomb itself sounds pretty professional, the construction of it was so poor that the electronic switch could have tripped at any time. Once we were able to isolate and then deactivate the lead wire, neutralizing the switch and the device itself was fairly text book."

Mark rubbed at his chin. "So Princess. You've disarmed more than a handful of Spectran bombs. Did it feel familiar to you?"

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. Spectran bombs are fairly easy to work through because the makers are professional and don't want to blow themselves up in the making process. They need to get it in place without a premature ignition." She found herself swaying gently to one side in search of Mark's side. She found his shoulder and rested gently against it. "In my time with the Bomb Squad I have only maybe encountered one or two actual explosives that gave me flashbacks to my time with G-Force."

Baron piped up. "I still can't believe you were the Swan."

Mark smiled. "Princess _is_ the Swan."

"Was," she corrected softly. "I was the Swan."

Mark's head tilted to one side. "You're not going to rejoin the team?"

"Can we talk about it later, Mark? Please? We're troubleshooting here."

"Yeah," Damien grunted, his displeasure at the possibility of losing his partner obvious. "How about we get back to things that go boom?" He began to tap a little more aggressively at the keyboard. "So the subway thing was an amateur with big dreams, but this other stuff along the transit line is what has your shackles up, right Cass?"

She nodded and rocked herself backward off her knees to settle herself into a cross-legged position on the floor. She pursed her lips to one side. "I don't know why, but I'm getting this strange feeling that the explosive is being moved via the transit system to the target area."

"That's pretty odd method of transporting explosives don't you think?"

She shrugged. "Then I don't get why we keep finding bits and pieces of it along the way. That is what I find so confusing. Bombers do not just dribble little things here and there to keep the dogs happy, they blow stuff up."

Barron grunted his agreement. "As we learned today."

Mark's head jagged quickly toward to room's eldest member. "Have your teams evaluated that yet?"

"Too soon for a determination, Commander. CSU teams can't get in there until the SIU do their thing." He took a long breath. "When you lose a man, the entire investigation takes on a different, and much longer, process."

Mark looked at Princess. "What are your thoughts?"

She drew her knees to her chest and ran a hand through her hair. "After what happened tonight, I want to say Spectra."

"Why? What is it about the situation that felt Spectran?"

She shrugged and hugged her knees. "It didn't feel right. It didn't feel like it usually does when we storm a place. It was – felt – strange." She could feel the stares of her squad partners on her. "The only thing that doesn't feel right for an attack by Spectra was the timing. The timing was off. You know that's atypical for Spectran bombers." She caught Mark's nod and continued. "When we entered the warehouse, the LED timer said we had four minutes. That's plenty of time to neutralize. Before we even got our kits down it blew."

Damien shuddered at the recollection and subconsciously stroked at his casted arm. "It was like we tripped a sensor somewhere and it just…" He tilted his head to one side and grimaced. "All I remember is walking behind Eric, Cassie yelled to us to run, and then I woke up underneath the building."

Barron angled his head to one side and frowned. "Anderson, you knew something was wrong before it blew?"

She shrugged like an innocent child. "I guess it was intuition." She tapped at her temple. "It was like a buzz right here that told me to run."

Mark narrowed his gaze and moved in closer to her. "Is it too soon to ask you to think back on it?"

She bit on her lip and clenched her eyes shut as if to force the memory. "We walked in and I looked to my left because I thought I heard something. Eric and Damien were behind me."

Mark pressed for more information. "Did you see anything?"

Her head shifted to a low tilt as her breath held in her chest. "I don't know if I could say it was anything I saw, more than it was how I felt."

"Gut feeling?"

Her eyes opened and she stared at the laptop keyboard. "No. It was like walking into an electrical field." She looked at Mark as if she was looking for the answer from him. "The air was so dry. It actually hurt to breathe. I could feel every hair on my body stand on end."

Barron gave a low growl from his chair. "That warehouse was supposed to be abandoned a long time ago and was scheduled for demolition at the end of Summer." He flicked his hand in request for the computer, to which Princess complied quickly. "It had been taken over by the Menendez drug Cartel and used as a Meth lab. The city's been hanging on to it as evidence for about eighteen months." He appeared to find the appropriate file and flicked his fingers on the monitor as through it was a piece of paper. "There was speculation that Menendez was financing some terrorist organization, but it couldn't be determined, nor proven, just who it was."

Mark leaned his forearm on the coffee table to give him enough leverage to maintain a twist to keep his focus on the big man on the couch. "So now you think it might be Spectra?"

He shrugged. "To be completely honest with you, Commander, our role extends only to any incendiary devices suspected on the property. My team hadn't been brought in because there was no threat of explosion bar the actual still itself. They had the detection bots go in there for a sweep, but didn't find anything."

Jason shrugged. "Then this whole conversation is pretty moot." He caught a glare and raised both hands in a flippant manner to say he was backing off. "I know it's a big deal and all, but if you guys had no involvement in the original case, Spectra wouldn't have any reason to target you guys specifically."

Princess shook her head to disagree. "But we were there this time, Jase." She slouched. "If there is a bomb, then who else gets called in?"

Lisa nodded. "She's got a point. There is no jacking around with who goes and who doesn't when a Bomb call comes. These guys are dispatched the second a call comes through." She slid off the couch to sit her ass on the floor and leaned her forearms on the coffee table. "If Spectra wanted to target a specific bomb division it would be easy – all they'd have to do is plant the weapon within their jurisdiction."

Mark shook his head. "No. If Zoltar knew where she was, he would have hit the department a long time ago."

"Unless he didn't know until yesterday." She caught his look and shrugged a shoulder up to her ear. "Well, we didn't know, did we?"

Barron scrolled through the information in the file and let out a breath as he set the computer back on the table. "With my team suddenly becoming celebrities and the duo's faces being plastered all over the press, I guess they found her."

Princess shuddered. "I don't want to think that Eric was killed because of me."

Mark stroked her arm. "It's not your fault, Sweetheart. Even if it was to draw you out, it's still Zoltar's fault."

Her eyes grazed across the faces of all on their way toward him. "But it is still because of me; of my connection to you: his greatest enemy."

Mark's eyes narrowed thinly. "And I will make him pay for what he has done to us." His expression and glance toward the hulking Sergeant Barron left no doubt that "us" referred to Princess' new team as well as his own. "Spectra crossed the line today and I swear to any deity watching that I will exact revenge for everything he's done."

Barron gave a hot snort. "As long as you share the honour, Commander. I will teach you the necessary forensic techniques to make sure noone can pin it on you." He caught Damien's stunned stare and thumbed at his nose. "He took a man from me today, Knight. He threatened my girl's little girl." He pounded at the left side of his chest. "That's my family he's screwing with."

Mark gave a firm nod in total agreement and extended his hand to Barron for a firm shake. "It's a deal, Sir."

Jason chuckled. "Deals between Devils. I'm on board."

Damien just seemed stunned. "I can't believe you just called us family, man."

Princess covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. "That makes you the bratty little brother."

Mark separated himself from Princess and leaned on the coffee table in a manner to suggest that it was time for work. He flicked his fingers to ask all to join him around the table and slid a pad of paper and a pen toward himself. "Then let's get to it. Fun and games is over. We need to formulate a plan of investigation and attack if we want to end this once and for all."


	12. Chapter 12

Melissa wasn't sure if she was exactly thrilled to have been summoned into a meeting with Spectra's ruler so soon after a failed mission. She had barely a moment to change her clothing before there were goons at her door demanding she leave with them immediately.

She honestly didn't expect any tears for the loss of her fellow Rigan Aviation Institute graduate. While she was most definitely close enough to him to have called him family, she couldn't find it inside her to shed a tear. She wondered if that meant she'd finally lost what it meant to be human; that she was officially an emotionless robot ready to answer to any whim of her new leader.

She didn't know what to think as she was led through the labyrinth of tunnels under the city subway system. Part of her figured it would probably be her final tomb; that Zoltar had ordered her death because of the failure. It would make sense, although he was more apt to find some way of forcing one to take their own life in the name of Spectra. He was prone to ordering such fates only if it meant the death would cause many more along with it, but for him to take a more Mafia style approach of covert murder wouldn't exactly surprise her.

She was surprised, then, when she was shoved into a small alcove for safety as a train roared down the tracks full of passengers racing home from work. Once the ten-car train had rumbled through, the small group of goons tugged her out and back along the hot line. She saw the lights of the station ahead of her and angled her head curiously to one side to see one of Zoltar's key operatives dressed in civilian clothing marching toward it carrying a trendy backpack over his shoulder. Before he stepped around the barrier to wait amongst the gathering crowds on the platform, however, she was pushed by one the goons through what appeared to be a utility room door.

She gasped when she passed through the door to see an elaborate staging room full of lab equipment and computers inside.

"What is this?" she asked herself softly as the door clicked behind her.

Zoltar's voice snarled impatiently from beside her. "I asked for your presence over an hour ago, Melissa."

She flicked her head to him and gave him an arrogant look up and down. "Perhaps if your lair of the week was more accessible, then I may have arrived sooner."

He rolled a shoulder and flicked his hand to tell her to follow as he made his way through the lab. "We were forced to eliminate our previous warehouse due to the inappropriate presence of the city's enforcement teams. This section of the underground will prove more effective for our operations for the time being."

She shrugged of only to appear disinterested, but found herself completely fascinated by the bustling energy. "I take it the explosion downtown today was _that_ warehouse."

Zoltar gave a single sharp nod and stepped ahead of her into an elaborately decorated office. "It allowed us the opportunity to sample some of the new compound and destroy any evidence …" he paused with a grin as he poured himself a glass of red wine. "And to eliminate a few loose ends."

She wondered if he would offer her a wine, but was disappointed to find him simply walk away from the bottle and sip gently on his glass. "Would a loose end be the dead member of the Bomb Squad?"

He bit on the edge of the glass in a smile. "Oh no. That was purely accidental. The device was both timed and set with a trigger to sense any electrical stimuli." His brow rose slightly. "The technician who erred with the sensor has since been dealt with."

Melissa tilted her head. "What kind of electronics are we talking, sir?"

"It is quite possible that the logistics behind such a detail are beyond your intelligence, Melissa. However, as you seem interested, and I feel like talking, the sensor was set to the G-Force wavelengths that their uniforms seem to carry. We have isolated that particular wave and had it applied to our sensors."

She really didn't understand what he was on about, but feigned complete apprehension with a breath. "As in their implant technology, Sir?"

He nodded in surprise. "Impressive, Melissa."

She shocked even herself that the bluff worked. "So you say the sensor was a failure?"

He drew back long on the wine and hummed appreciatively at the smooth burn of the alcohol. "Unless Chief Anderson and his men are sharing the technology, Melissa, then yes. It was a failure. The bomb detonated upon the arrival of the city bomb team."

Melissa frowned. "But according to the news reports, G-Force was there."

He shook his head and tilted the glass at her as if pointing at her. "They did not arrive until after the explosion."

Her head twisted uncomfortably to the side. "Are you sure about that?"

"I was there, Melissa," he growled quietly. "I witnessed the arrival of the team from the city. G-Force did not arrive until nearly fifteen minutes after the explosion."

Melissa pursed her lips and frowned in thought. "All five members arrived late?"

"Indeed they did."

Melissa took a moment to consider the events of the evening, of the attack at the apartment and the sudden arrival of the entire police force and G-Force at the ex-Swan's defence. She knew of the face of the young man with Princess and Mark from the news reports of his team's latest exploits. He was the overt member of a pair of investigators whose female member was camera shy. All she ever saw of the girl was her braided black hair and vaguely familiar innocent gait.

It fell into place.

She actually smiled when she looked back at Zoltar. "Have you considered the possibility that the Swan may have been onsite?"

Zoltar did little more than raise a brow at her suggestion. "Why would the Swan be with G-Force, Melissa. You, yourself, said she had abandoned them."

She smirked and shook her head. "Perhaps she found herself a new job with the local police force."

His brow flicked curiously and he took an attentive position in a chair behind an ornate oak desk. "Continue."

She slouched in her stance, uncomfortable with his rapt attention. "You have to admit that it makes sense. G-Force never work alongside law enforcement. They show no interest in the small stuff."

He laughed lightly. "Not enough glory for the Eagle."

She snorted in agreement. "Well for them to show up at a low-level event is strange, then. Even you have to admit that."

He growled. "I'll ignore the implication there, Melissa."

She shrugged. "You say the sensor was set to pick up the wavelengths of their implant technology." At his nod she continued. "The Swan obviously has the same implant regardless of whether or not she is on the team. If she were the one to walk into that building, it goes without saying that your sensor would have picked it up and reacted accordingly."

He rubbed thoughtfully at his chin and smirked. "It is a possibility we can explore, young lady."

"It fits with the mess at the Swan's home this evening."

His lip curled into a snarl. "This is something we need to discuss." He drew back on his wine and admired the glass for a second before he set it down on the desk in front of him. "How did Anson fail what was supposed to be an easy assignment?"

She shrugged and curled her lip shortly as she assessed what her fate might be when she explained the details. "She's the Swan, Sire. Do you honestly believe it would be so easy?"

"Yes. She is one woman. I sent twenty men with him."

"You forget she was one woman who obliterated a base with almost a thousand men."

His eyes narrowed in disgust. He reached forward to hold the stem of his glass of wine. "Of that I don't need a reminder."

"Perhaps you do," she breathed carefully as she let her eyes scan for the closest exit. "If she can single-handedly destroy an entire base, what makes you believe only twenty men can bring her down?"

The stem cracked in his hold, which made the bulb of the glass topple loudly onto the table. Zoltar ignored the crimson puddle of wine as it rolled toward the centre. "You don't question me, Melissa." He lifted his hand and rolled his fingers slowly into a tight fist. "I can squash you like an ant."

"I don't doubt it," she hissed quietly.

"Yet you question me." His fist flicked out as he finally registered the wine before him. The puddle displayed a clear reflection of his mask and he let his narcissism calm him. "I will be ruler of this world, young lady. You will be well inclined to learn to respect me. My men have died at my hand for far less insolence."

"You need me," she tried arrogantly.

"Only for as long as your brother breathes." He raised his eyes to hers. "It the moment his last breath leaves his body you will no longer have any use to this organization."

"Then it seems I live for another day."

His glossed lips stretched across his face in a threatening smile. "But do you really live?" He pressed a gloved finger into the puddle and swirled it lazy before raising it to his mouth. "Or is it just a meager existence of servitude?"

She shuddered as she watched him bring his finger to his mouth to sweep his tongue along the wetted tip. "I live only to serve," she growled obediently. "As you wish."

"Then you will tell me where you believe the Swan to be." He rose and walked to the wall to pour himself another glass of wine. His back was to her as he spoke. "If she is with a new team, then she has a new base." He turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder. "You will unearth this location for me and report what you find."

"And you will do what, Sire?"

He gave a laugh and turned with enough force to splash contents the half-filled glass of wine onto the wall. "Why I will destroy it, won't I?"

She gave a slow blink. "Would it not be easier to simply plant something new and have her team brought to you?"

"No." He took a stride toward her. "If there is threat her identity is known, they will not send her in." His stride took him only to his desk and he pressed a hand down on it in a lean. "If I know anything about these humans it is that they protect their own. You say the Eagle came to her rescue this evening. He will ensure she is kept from any harm."

She smiled and shook her head. "Then why am I going to find her _new_ base? If he is keeping her under wraps then she probably won't even be there."

His face froze in an expressionless glare at her for calling his mistake. "Just go, Melissa. Get me the information I need. Only then will I forget about your failure in retrieving a little baby." He flicked his finger at the doorway. "How you were defeated by a woman and an infant I have no idea."

She swept by him and offered him a glare as she passed. "Maybe it was because of G-Force, and the entire city police department."

"Just leave," he snarked in reply. "Bring me what I need by evening tomorrow."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

As much as Princess had appreciated her team rushing out and buying her baby some necessities, she felt a little left out at them not having considered her own needs and at least purchasing one outfit for her. She tried hard to feel completely grateful at their thoughtfulness. But as she analysed her current attire in the mirror above Mark's dresser, she felt a tiny dip in her stomach. Her jeans had survived the fight relatively intact. A quick trip through the washer and dryer had eliminated much of the blood and mud, leaving only light rusted stains on the hip and knees. Her sweater, however, was a total write-off. Mark had tried to clean it for her, but had neglected to consider that it was cashmere, and therefore wasn't exactly washing machine friendly. It had now become something that would fit little Amanda somewhere beyond her second birthday.

Mark watched with a smile as she stood in front of the mirror wearing only a low-rise pair of Parasuco jeans, a white bra and a pout as she assessed whether or not she might actually be able to squeeze herself into the sweater. He peeled himself from the door and lowered his head to hide the smile.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I probably should have waited for you to wash them, but you were asleep and I didn't want to bother you."

She let out a long breath that was a mix of disappointment and humour and folded the small sweater in half against her belly. "That's okay, Mark. You tried. I can't complain about that."

He stepped toward her and raised her chin with the crook of his finger. He smiled in mock guilt as her eyes met his. "So I'm forgiven?"

He couldn't help but grin and stepped around him. "This time I'll forgive you," she warned jokingly. "Next time I'll request blood."

"Oh such a dangerous girl is my Swan," he chuckled as he underhand threw a familiar shirt to her. "I hope this will suffice until we can either get you to a mall or stop by your apartment."

She contracted with the catch as though it were a heavy package and narrowed her eyes at him. "At least act intimidated, Mark."

He shrugged and flopped down into a seat on the edge of his bed. He leaned back on an arm and crossed his legs at the knee. "The mountain does not bow down to a mortal man, nor does it fear the wrath of…"

"Oh can it," she groaned painfully as she opened the shirt and took a long look at it. "My number three shirt."

He smiled. "I have four of them."

Her eyes closed gently as she shook her head and brought it to her nose as if to smell it. "My old perfume."

"My new softner, actually." He smirked at her sudden shocked look and shrugged. "Okay, I sent Cynthia out to buy me some supplies last week. That was what she picked out."

"How is Cyn?"

He nodded. "Still the left side of my brain. I swear I'd be lost without her."

She held the shirt out in front of her and breathed out hard as she stared at it. "Should I be jealous?"

He ignored the joke through being too focused on her reluctance to slip on the shirt. "Is there something wrong with it, Princess?"

Her eyes rose to look at him over the top of the shirt. "I just don't feel right putting it back on. This is a G-Force uniform and I'm not G-Force."

He rubbed his knees with his hands and pushed himself to a stand. "It takes only one word for you to be on my team again, Princess. Just say it."

She pulled the shirt into her chest. "What's the word?"

"Yes." He strode to a space only two feet away from her and paused. He pulled her communicator from his pocket and held it out to her. "Just say yes when I ask if you want to come back."

She backed off and shook her head. "No, Mark. I can't."

"Yes you can." He flicked his arm to tell her to take it. "Just take the communicator and you're back with us."

She shook her head again. "No. Not now that I have Amanda." She cast a gaze into the hallway toward the room where her daughter slept. "I can't put myself in a situation where she can lose her mother." She flicked her head back when she heard him clear his throat. "Mark. It's bad enough that you're out there risking your life with every mission. If we put both ourselves out there and she loses both of us …" She shuddered. "I don't want to orphan her."

"But Princess. You know we'll keep you safe."

She hugged herself and nodded. "I know you will try, Mark, but what if something takes down the whole team?" She stepped forward quickly as his lips pursed into a frown and cupped his face with both hands. "Ask me to do anything else and I will, Mark. Ask me to move in with you, marry you, give you more children. Hell, ask me to make myself a personal slave to all of G-Force and the Rangers and I will say yes without thinking twice." Her head followed his as it dropped. "But I can't go back to G-Force. At least not yet."

He gave a defeated exhale and drew away from her. "I understand."

Her arms flopped heavily down either side of her hips as he walked out of the room with a lowered head. She screwed up her face to curse herself and huffed as she hurriedly pulled the old shirt over her head. As she smoothed the shirt down over the low rise of her jeans, Mark stepped back into the room.

"Mark. We can discuss…"

He shushed her gently and took her left hand in his. Smoothly he slipped a glistening ring onto her finger and then kissed her knuckles. His head snapped up quickly at a soft wail from the adjacent room. "Mandy." He dropped her hand and walked quickly to the door to retrieve his daughter.

Princess called quickly after him. "Mark?"

He stopped at the question and smiled when he looked back at her. "You've already said you will, Princess. I didn't need to ask."

She looked down at her hand. "Does this mean?"

He nodded and gave her a wink before walking out into the next room.

"But, Mark. This was your mom's ring."

"Now it's yours."


	13. Chapter 13

Melissa leaned lazily against a police cruiser in the carpark of the division she believed Princess to be a detective and checked at her watch for the tenth time in twenty minutes. She was well aware of the varying shift times of local enforcement agencies, and also aware that their start times were staggered for whatever reasons, but she still felt annoyance at having waited so long for confirmation that it was the correct location. Sure, it would have been easy to feign trouble and seek out information on the young woman, but with recent events she felt it better to just lie in wait.

She felt a pang of paranoia and looked over her shoulder for any sign that there were birds or Spectrans on watch, but quickly dismissed that at ludicrous. A source in the Rangers squadron had assured her there were tactical meetings at Neptune planned, and Zoltar had definitely sent her out alone. Any police officers that passed her merely tipped their caps at her and wished her a good day.

And a good day it appeared to be. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and she was still alive to cherish another day.

She felt as though she may burst into some pathetic broadway song, but found her commonsense when she heard the rumble of a Harley Davidson bike pull up only a few feet away. Believing it to be the vehicle of the Ex-Swan, she peeled herself off the cruiser and took a few steps forward.

The rider, although female, did not end up being the swan, and Melissa grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and turned, bumping into the actual target of her surveillance.

"Princess," she gasped suddenly, half panicked and half thrilled that her search was over.

Princess looked up from her handbag and let out a short, startled, yelp. "Melissa?" Her head flicked from side to side as her body tensed in preparation for a fight. "What are you doing here?"

Melissa caught sight of the familiar #3 shirt and grimaced. It was tempting to pull the small firearm she had holstered in her belt jeans, but hesitated when she saw the large frightened eyes of a girl caught unaware. "I was looking for you."

Princess fought every instinct she had to hog-tie the woman in front of her. She held off only because she knew there were over 200 innocent people inside the building that didn't need to become a part of a war between two enemies. "I warn you, Melissa. I will not come quietly."

Melissa took a hasty look around them and roughly took hold of Princess' upper arm. "We need to talk."

"No. You need to leave."

She tugged her toward a quiet area beside the wall. "That's an impossibility for me."

Princess did her share of looking around them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Melissa waved her hand to dismiss the question and seemed to look hesitant as she leaned against a wall and flicked her eyes to each person wandering the car park. "I'm here with a warning."

Princess found her inner courage and narrowed her eyes. "I really don't want to hear whatever speech Zoltar forced you to memorize for me. I've lived his damn warnings for most of my life."

"This one's from me."

The softness with which the words left her enemy's mouth forced Princess to flap her lips together once, and then twice, in mild confusion. She twisted her head to one side, which forced her to look upon Melissa with a side glance. "I don't understand."

Melissa hugged herself and watched an officer call out a hello to another. "You need to evacuate everyone from this building and stay as far away from it as possible."

Princess gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. "Why?"

"Zoltar learned a couple of hours ago that you were likely part of the bomb squad. He sent me here to confirm."

Princess furrowed her brows, not hiding her perplexity at the situation. "If you are Zoltar's current go-to, then why are you here?"

Melissa sniffed. "I don't know."

"How much time do we have for an evac?"

"He won't have confirmation from me for another twelve hours." She let one side of her mouth twist up in a rueful smirk. "About five minutes after that he'll attack this building and obliterate everything."

Princess shook her head in panic. "But this is a forensics building. It'll take days to get everyone and everything out." Her hand rose as if to indicate the door. "Do you have any idea how many murderers will go free if this building is destroyed? This is where we hold evidence to their cases."

Melissa rolled her eyes. "And you really think Zoltar really gives a shit about that? He wants you and G-Force dead. If it means a few bad guys get a break, then sobeit." She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at her. "It isn't like your old team ever gave a thought for anyone else on the ground when it came to your own victories."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Princess huffed angrily. "We did everything we could to get people clear. It isn't us who sends out giant machines to crush everything in sight."

"Then it should go without saying that the one sending the machines won't care this time either."

Princess scraped her fingers through her hair and held her hair around her face in worry. "God."

"I don't think he's going to help you much."

She ran her palm heavily down her face and looked through the carpark. "Can't he just …?" She shot her gaze back to Melissa. "Why are you telling me this? Why aren't you just running back to him and telling him where to find me?"

Melissa's face contorted into one of confused regret. "I don't know."

"Do you even know which side you're on?"

She shook her head. "I have a side, Princess. I just don't particularly like it too much."

"Then don't tell him." She tried to offer a reassuring touch of her hand on Melissa's shoulder, but was shrugged off.

"Don't try to be my friend, Princess. I have no choice. If I don't give him this information I die." She inhaled hard. "But I won't forgive myself if I don't give you a warning first. This won't be something you'll walk away from."

"But if you tell him, so many people will die."

Melissa laughed. "Are you suggesting I commit suicide to protect the greater good?"

Princess shook her head. "No. I'm suggesting that you defect. I am sure that Mark will make sure you're protected if you tell us what we need to know."

Melissa actually laughed. "Why? Because he's my protective big brother?" She flicked a hand ad her. "I'm pretty sure he and I are well beyond playing happy families." Her voice lowered. "After everything we've done to him he'd probably prefer to kill me himself."

Princess shook her head in pleading. "No. He's not like that. He'll forgive and …"

"No," she boomed to interrupt. "I will not look for protection or anything from him. This warning is not about me wanting to play family time or look for his forgiveness. This is about the mother of my niece and making sure she has a chance to go home to her child." A guilty look passed by her eyes. "I wouldn't let Anson hurt that little girl, and I sure as hell won't let Zoltar do it."

The admission flew at Princess, and the ex-swan inhaled it with a gulp. "You took that shot?"

"I thought it obvious when your ETF snipers couldn't get the solution."

Both Princess' hands flew to her mouth. "How did you know about that?"

She shrugged. "I knew their locations. Mark kept moving into their target range." She let out a breath. "You'd think he'd know there were snipers ready to save that baby and that he'd back off."

"I really don't think it was on his mind." She grimaced. "It definitely wasn't on mine."

Melissa blinked and took a deep breath to clear her mind. "Just heed the warning, Princess. You get your teams out of here because in a little over twelve hours Zoltar will storm this building."

"Don't tell him, Melissa." She sounded desperate and made no attempt to hide it. "You have already gone against him to give me this warning. Tell him another location and I'll have G-Force meet him there."

Melissa gasped. "Don't tell Mark and the boys. Zoltar has people on the inside who will alert him to it and you'll have less time to get everyone out."

"But…"

"But nothing. I know Mark and Jason. They're too damn hotheaded for their own good. They'll make sure the entire Federation knows." She saw the look in Princess' eyes that told her Princess would call them anyway. "For the safety of everyone in here, don't do it."

Princess could only blink. "How did he even know I was here?"

"I told him."

Princess couldn't help but react in exasperation. "You? Why?" She shook her head unable to form an actual sentence in her mind. "I don't understand."

Melissa bit on her thumbnail and shrugged. "Neither do I." She stepped back just a little. "I have to go. Just. Just get these people out of here and get everyone to safety."

"Help me, then." She looked to the doorway of the building. "If you bring yourself in, I'll give you protection." She looked back at her. "I promise you. I won't have time to get anyone out if we get a call."

Melissa's eyes shot open. "Oh no, Princess," she gasped with a shake of the head. "You can't get called out to any site."

"But that's my job."

"No. No." She held onto Princess' upper arms tightly in warning. "If it's Spectran you'll be killed."

Princess didn't move, nor try to pull out of Melissa's hold. Instead she gave a frown. "But I've handled his bombs before."

"Not these ones." She pursed her lips for a brief moment and raised her hand to tap a finger at Princess' temple. "With that thing in your head." She sighed. "It's designed to detonate the second a sensor in the bomb picks this thing up."

Her eyes shot open wide and she tugged herself back. "No."

"You remember yesterday."

Princess let a tear escape her lashes. "No."

"I've got to go." She turned and walked briskly into the carpark. She looked around uneasily and held herself tightly as though cold.

Princess found composure and jogged between the cars to find her. "Melissa, please." At the woman shrugging her off, Princess' voice took on a low growl. "Then I'll arrest you."

Melissa turned sharply. "Try it and I will …"

"Cassie."

Both woman turned toward the voice of Princess' partner as he jogged toward them. It was Princess who breathed out his name. As she turned to look back at Melissa, however, she was stunned to find the girl had disappeared. She immediately looked around her in horror both in search of her and to see if there was danger near them.

"Damien," she breathed worriedly. "Damien, did you see where she went?"

Damien looked around with her and gave a short shrug. "Who?"

She shook her head and waved her hand at him to tell him not to worry about it as she unclipped a cell-phone from her belt. She gave a grunt as she thumbed through the list of numbers. "I think we have a problem, Damien."

He looked upon her with a curious frown as she held the phone to her ear and set the other hand on her hip. He knew that stance well. "Cass. What's wrong?"

Her eyes held pain as she answered him with only a look. "I just hope this number is still active. It's been a while since I've …" she hiccupped as a chipper Australian voice answered. "Shinji, it's Princess. Tell me are you with the Colonel?"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Mark couldn't help but feel awkward as he juggled a tiny little girl on his hip, a giant diaper bag on his shoulder, and an arm full of files as he elbowed the button for the disabled control of the door to the team recreation room. As he waited for the gentle "whoosh" of the doors to open he wondered how women did it and made it look so easy. He was desperately under trained for such a maneouvre and actually considered forcing the tactical heads to add such training to his regular routine when the file of papers fell and scattered onto the floor just inside the room.

"Dammit," he cursed under his breath as he tilted to one side in hopes of picking everything up without having to put everything down.

Lisa's voice chirped excitedly from the other side of the room to eliminate the need to do so.

"Oh. Gimme gimme gimme," she gushed as she swept across the floor to him and drew the giggling little child from him. "Oh come to auntie Lisa you snuggly little munchkin."

Jason's brow was firmly skyward as she breezed past him pulling strange faces at the child. "Don't go getting any ideas, Lisa," he muttered dryly when she flopped onto a beanbag and promptly began blowing raspberries on Amanda's belly.

She looked up and grinned in a manner that immediately had her looking like an anime girl with arches as eyes. "Oh but she's so cute." She looked back down at her. "I just want to eat you all up."

He shuddered and stooped beside his commander to help him pick up his papers. "Why is it women turn into strange creatures around babies?"

Mark chuckled and shook his head. "I know some guys who do the same."

"Yeah, well not me, man." He stood up and thrust a handful of papers into Mark's chest. "I just don't like them."

"Neither did I until I saw her little face," Mark admitted with a shrug as he set the diaper bag against the wall. "Now that I have her, I don't want to let her go."

Jason thumbed his chin. "Which explains you bringing her in today, when we have tactical meetings booked all day."

Mark smirked. "Cynthia has volunteered to baby-sit. I don't trust Princess taking her to a daycare centre right now."

He nodded, and then winced at a short wail from the baby in question when Lisa stopped blowing raspberries. He was thankful when she went straight back to it. "So how's Princess doing?"

"Okay," he answered as he attempted to shuffle the papers back into order. "All things considered." He didn't look up from his file as he continued. "She went to the lab today to see if the CSU have retrieved the device yet."

Jason let out a sharp groan. "Damn. Now they've got you talking in acronyms."

He chuckled. "It makes me appear as though I know what they're talking about."

"Do you?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea, man."

Their heads shifted slowly to the hallway as the Ranger's Australian recruit, a young man the Colonel's Japanese contingent had nicknamed "Shinji" wandered slowly by talking on his cellphone. They thought nothing of the conversation as the boy appeared to try and calm who they both assumed must have been one of his many female callers, and merely offered nods of greeting.

Jason flicked a brow at Shinji's customary greeting of a flip of the bird and held his crotch in reply. "Suck me, Wilson."

Shinji blew him a kiss and sped up to wherever he was heading.

"Cocky little bastard, isn't he?"

Mark slapped him across the arm and pointed to the couch. "Reminds me of someone else I know."

"Oh I am _not_ like him."

Mark flopped into a chair and spared an adoring glance at the little girl trying to stand up next to Lisa. "I take it my father is on the premises."

Lisa chuckled as Amanda fell onto her butt and pulled her up onto her knee. "His whole team got called out to some emergency in Japan last night. Turns out it was some hoax."

Mark nodded. "Princess told me that Anson had said something to that effect last night in her apartment."

Jason sucked in a breath through the side of his mouth that sounded off like a tick. "I hate to say it, Mark, but I'm glad that asshole's dead."

"I'm not," Mark admitted through a grimace. "If we had him we could interrogate the hell out of him and this could all be over with." He raised his eyes. "And then I could kill him." He raised his hand as if a claw. "By my own damn hand."

Lisa giggled and blew air into her cheeks to entertain Amanda. "Princess might have preferred that option."

Jason smirked. "Nah, not Prin. She'd beg to try and rehabilitate. She's not a killer."

Lisa raised her eyes. "Well she was in the wrong profession then, wasn't she?"

Mark ignored the comment. "We still have Melissa to worry about."

Jason agreed. "Yes. Melissa, your baby sister."

"By birth only," Mark countered with a grunt before Lisa could ask the question. "I wouldn't think twice in using my birdrang against her the next time I saw her."

Jason picked at his teeth. "I'm wondering why she wasn't there with Anson last night. It seems pretty odd that Zoltar would only send the one of them in. Princess wouldn't give a second thought about wiping the floor with Anson, but Melissa?" He shrugged. "The girl's all about family, she'd actually worry about harming one of yours."

"I know," Mark agreed. "Which is what worries me. If she faced off against that woman…"

"She'd come off second best only to try and repair your family."

Mark rubbed at his knees with his hands. "Well. I'm not interested. Melissa is nothing but a Spectran goon in my eyes."

Anderson's hurried entrance into the room ceased the discussion immediately. The Security Chief, followed by Shinji and Cronus, pointed a strong finger at Keyop, who was asleep and drooling in a lean over his drum kit. "Wake him up and find Tiny. You are all on standby until further notice."

Mark stood quickly. "What is it, Chief?"

Jason checked his fingernails and smirked. "What is it ever, Mark; Spectra."

Anderson gave a firm nod. "Potential threat, team. Something we need to look into first." His head flicked at the gurgle of a small child. "Is that?" He looked toward Mark.

"Cynthia will be taking care of her, Sir," Mark answered quickly. "I apologise for bringing her in, but we had no other…"

"Good," Anderson answered quickly. "Keep her onsite and under guard. I will make permanent arrangements for her care later." He turned sharply. "Commander, you're coming with me."

Mark raised his brows and shot a hopeful look toward his child. "Lisa, are you okay with her?"

She nodded. "Go. Go. I'll take her to Cyn."

He winked and jogged behind Anderson to take up position beside Shinji. "What have we got?"

Shinji gave a shrug. "Looks like it's invite the heroes to work day."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Dave Barron walked briskly through the station, slightly unnerved by an evacuation notice that had just been faxed from the Police Headquarters downtown. While there had been no specific reason for such, it had been asked that everything be secured and the personnel leave as quickly and as quietly as possible. He had yet to act on the order, but was on his way to his secretary to ask her to snap up a friendly memo to all staff. He took his eyes from the paper and raised his eyes to the door to witness the arrival of four men – one he knew personally though his investigator, one he knew only through news reports and one … One he recognized from a long _long_ time ago.

"You have got to be shittin' me," he bellowed at a man dressed in a red leather flight suit. "Matthew _Fly me to Paris_ Cronus."

Colonel Cronus turned sharply at the voice. His rigid frame actually dropped in relief when he saw the big Sergeant. "The Red Fucking Barron," he boomed back immediately as he strode swiftly up to Barron and punched him against the shoulder. The two men quickly came together in a man-hug, which ended with both punching at each other's backs before pulling away to shake hands. "What the hell are you doing in this precinct? What'd they arrest your sorry ass for this time?"

Barron set his hands on his hips and curled a lip in a smirk. "Oh I don't get arrested these days, Matt. I am the one pulling the punks of the streets." He took a moment to shoot a stare at the surprised looks of the three men with him. "Why are you hanging with the Feds? You make deal or something to dig yourself out of that shit in Rio?"

"That was twenty five years ago," he laughed. "And if you recall, that mishap in the airfield was all your doing."

"Really?" Barron scratched at his jaw. "The way I recall it was that you were the one flying the jet without authorization." He looked across at Mark. "This asshole only had a prop license and figured he could take an F-15 for a joy ride."

Mark nodded with surprised interest. "I take it the Colonel crashed the jet."

Barron laughed a booming negative. "Couldn't get the damn thing off the ground. He couldn't work out how to shut off the thrusters – damn well ended up buried inside a tin hanger. Took 'em, what, four hours to pull you out?"

"Three and a half," Cronus corrected with a guilty thumbing of his nose. "I still have dreams about you laughing standing at the nose of the jet demanding the $100 I owed you for losing the bet."

"I never did get it, you cheap bastard." He flicked his hand. "But I'll take it off your hands now."

Cronus shook his head. "I think I paid that to you with interest when I convinced Leanne to go on a date with you." He smirked. "You and she still together?"

Barron gave a nod. "Married 22 years and counting, Matt. What about you and Amanda? And what's that boy of yours doing these days?" He looked toward the curious Eagle. "Still can believe a woman let this guy procreate with her."

Mark cleared his throat in discomfort. "Yes. I have wondered about that, myself, at times."

Barron focused back on Cronus. "So. How is the family?"

Cronus tipped his head back toward Mark. "You've already met my boy. He's commanding G-Force and is a pilot like his old man." Those present could have been mistaken, but there was a hint of pride in Cronus' voice.

Barron shook his head at Mark. "You're Matt's kid? Damn, boy. I was changing your diapers when you were this big." He pressed his hand down through the air to indicate a small stature.

Cronus smirked at the comment and then lowered his voice a little. "Amanda. Sadly she passed fifteen years ago."

"Ahh shit, Matt," Barron said softly. "Sorry to hear that. She was a hell of a woman. Beautiful, beautiful lady."

Cronus raised his head and closed his eyes with a smile. "A real lady."

Chief Anderson, although mildly intrigued that Cronus actually did seem to have at least one friend in the world, found himself getting somewhat irritated at the wasted time. He thrust a hand into the pocket of his light-blue sport coat and adjusted his glasses.

"Colonel. Do you think you can save the tales of juvenile delinquency until later? We have a situation at hand that requires immediate attention."

Barron's eyes snapped up rather angrily, but Cronus seemed to agree. "When the day is done, Dave, we should catch up with a scotch and cigar."

"I'll warn Leanne." He stepped around Cronus and approached Anderson warily. "Dare I ask what has warranted a visit from the Security Chief?"

Anderson gave a short nod. "We have reason to believe that Spectra is targeting this building for an attack somewhere inside the next twenty-four hours."

Barron held up the memo in the air in front of his face. "Well that explains this, then," he grumbled. "How reliable is this information?"

"That's what we're here to assess," Anderson answered sternly. "I need to talk with one of your investigators."

Barron nodded. "Cassie Anderson, yes, I expect you do. She's with Knight in ballistics right now." He flicked his hand to invite all to follow him. "We received the evidence from yesterday's explosion this morning. She's analyzing the fragments at the moment."

"Is she okay, Sir," Mark asked gently only a second before he lurched to one side with his hand covering one side of his head. "Oh Jesus."

Anderson immediately reacted to his Commander's wincing and in-pain stance. "Commander, what's wrong." He raised his wrist to communicate to the main base facility. "I'll call Zark."

Mark shook his head and waved Anderson off. "No. No, Sir. It's alright." He blinked hard and straightened himself up. "What the hell was that?"

Anderson looked into Mark's eyes as if diagnosing a mysterious illness. "Are you hurt?"

Mark shook his head and lengthened out his jaw as if trying to stretch out the last of whatever had hit him. "It wasn't so much pain, Sir. It was a weird charge in my head – like someone had attached an electrode to my temple."

Cronus flicked his eyes at Anderson. "Don't tell me that damn implant's malfunctioning, Anderson."

"I'll have all team members assessed as soon as we get back to Neptune."

Mark assured them all he was okay. "I wouldn't worry about …" He winced and stumbled again. "What the hell?"

Cronus growled low. "Get him out of here and back to Neptune. The Lieutenant and I can take it from here."

"No," Mark grunted. "Not until I make sure she's okay."

The _She_ in question appeared through the doorway and was holding at her head in much the same manner Mark was. Backing out of the door, she stood side on to them. "Damien, I don't care. Just keep it juiced, I want to see what range it has."

She turned sharply and held at her head as she strode toward them. She ignored the presence of anyone else ahead of her as she practically knocked shoulders with Chief Anderson as she passed. "Keep it up, Damien," she ordered firmly as she turned mid-stride to walk backward to keep her eye on the door.

Mark stared after her with only one eye open, and was finding it somewhat difficult to stand straight with the buzz raging down into his shoulders. "Princess?"

Barron silenced him with an upward lock of his fist. "Let her work through it, Commander. She's in the zone." He stood still in the middle of the hallway with his arms locked across his chest. "She's obviously on to something."

All watched as she suddenly shook herself and straightened. She rubbed the buzz out of her head and looked at the floor as if examining the exact spot. "Is it still reading, Damien?"

He popped his head out of the door and nodded. "Yeah, Cass. The sensor is still going nuts."

"Shit," she cursed under her breath. "Is it locked on, or still sensing?"

He shrugged. "You're the electronic genius, Cass. You tell me." He noted the figures in the hall and waved. "Oh, hey Mark. What're you doing here?"

Princess' head snapped up to look toward the group. She immediately noticed Mark's discomfort and rushed him. "He's in range, no wonder it's still reading. Damien, keep looking at it while I get him out."

Mark gave her a shocked stare as she tugged him by the arm back toward the position she had originally taken. "It's okay, Mark," she cooed softly. "It's kinda scary isn't it?"

He let out an almost exhausted breath when he felt the energy suddenly cease. "What the hell was that?"

She petted his chest to ask for a moment to answer. "Damien, now?"

He popped his head back out of the room and gave her a thumbs up. "You got it, Cass." He looked at the tiles on the floor and counted. "Fifty-yard range. The sensor has a three-second delay on it." He walked out of the lab with a clipboard and jotted down the new information. "I say if you or the G-Force team feel that shudder, get the Hell out of Dodge within three seconds. I'll go turn it off."

Princess nodded and took a moment to look over Mark. She smiled as she ran her latex gloved hands over the sides of his head and face. "Are you okay?"

He quickly snapped her into a hug. "I'm here to ask you the same thing." He pulled back to look into her face. "Did she hurt you?"

"No, Mark," she answered on a breath as she pulled away from him and strode toward the group of four still standing in the middle of the hall. "Colonel. I thank you for keeping this to yourself."

Anderson read the annoyance in her facetiousness and spoke before Cronus could react. "The Colonel had no choice but report this to me," he answered sharply. "You should know perfectly well that anything of this nature is to be immediately brought to my attention."

She pursed her lips to shield a smile. "Oh. Okay. He was in your office when I called, right?"

He held out his hand to invite her to shake it and gave her a smile. "Indeed."

She smiled and ignored his extended hand to launch into a hug. "Oh I missed you, Sir." She took both his hands in hers and walked backward to pull him toward the lab. "Damien and I have stumbled onto a threat you really need to know about."

He followed without hesitation. "So it appears. However that is not the purpose for this visit."

She shook her head and released his hands as they all stepped into the room. She indicated for all of them to gather around the workbench. "No, Sir, but this is related to the current problem."

Barron was the lead in the questioning. "So what have you found, Anderson?"

She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear as Mark took up a protective position beside her. "Well it all starts with yesterday's explosion." She looked between Mark, Barron and Damien. "I mentioned to you guys last night that before I stepped into the building I felt a buzzing in my head."

Mark pursed his lips. "Like what I felt just now?"

She nodded. "Well…" She took a long breath. "Melissa, a Spectran agent, and former employee at Centre Neptune," said merely to give a small explanation to the members of the room who didn't know, "approached me today in the carpark."

"Why didn't you call me?" Mark interrupted softly as his hand grazed against hers.

Princess wasn't exactly welcome to the interruption, but gave him a smile anyway. "She told me not to, Mark. Besides, I didn't want to concern you."

"That's my job," he whispered.

She looked back toward the team. "Melissa approached me to give warning that 12 hours after our meeting that she would inform Zoltar of my involvement with this particular department."

Anderson was quick to interrupt. "Did she give indication as to why there was a warning?"

Princess shook her head. "She said she didn't know herself why she came forward, just that she felt she had to."

"Would it be fair to assume that the time she gave was incorrect in order to ensure you would be on the premises?" He caught the questioning glare from Barron. "I am sure you know your investigator as well as I do, Sergeant. If Princess here thinks she has a viable timeframe to safety she will remain onsite until roughly seconds before the danger strikes."

Barron gave a nod. "That is her job, Mr. Anderson," he replied smoothly. "She will stay by the explosive until the very last second if she thinks she can disarm it."

Princess looked at them both with wide eyes and a cocked head. "Um. When we are done with my glowing reference." She merely blinked at the hot glares from both men. "I have faith in her 12-hour warning, Sirs. Her body language suggested to me that her being there was by choice, and could well land her in serious trouble with Zoltar."

Anderson pushed his glasses back up his nose and spared a glance at Cronus. "What do you think, Colonel? They held you captive for a number of years. Would this be a new tactic?"

Cronus shook his head and set his hand on the table to lean. "That would suggest a level of brilliance I wouldn't dare assume that asshole has."

"Language," Princess warned softly with a smile. "I don't see it as just a tactic, Sir. Zoltar is a strike fast kind of guy. If he had absolute confirmation I was here he wouldn't waste time and go to that trouble."

Mark nodded. "I agree with Princess. We've all experienced it first hand and I am sure that Sergeant Barron will agree with me when I say that a killer rarely changes his MO."

Anderson pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the table. "Then we need to make sure everyone within 12 blocks is clear of this location and have our team in place to greet him." His eyes shifted to Mark. "I expect you to brief your team and have them in place at least two hours before the end of the twelve hours. I will have Zark and Cronus' teams on sweep. Tiny should standby in the Phoenix in case Spectra pulls out all the stops and shows up in one of his metal carriages." His attention fell to Barron. "Sergeant. I would advise you make preparations to move what you can inside this time frame. We can only do so much to protect what's in here, but with Zoltar on a rampage, I can't guarantee anything."

Cronus grunted in approval of the order and flicked his fingers to tell his Lieutenant to follow him from the room. Barron was close behind in the move to obey command. He unclipped his cellphone from his belt and thumbed through contacts. Mark was already on his communicator giving launch codes to the Phoenix dock staff.

Princess frowned as she watched them all move. She sheepishly raised her hand like a child in the classroom wanting to talk to teacher. "Uh. Guys?" She shrugged at Damien, who watched on in rapt fascination of the proceedings. "Typical men. Ignorant in the presence of a girl."

Mark caught the insult and dropped his wrist from his mouth. "What was that, Princess?"

"I said you're all ignorant." When their attention finally fell on her she set her hand on her hip and swept the other across the table over the top of the remains of the bomb. "Maybe you'd like to let me finish what I was trying to say in the first place before you run in half-cocked with no intel."

Barron gave a snort of approval at Princess' snark. "Go ahead, Cass. Spell it out for them."

She didn't think about it, she just let it slide smoothly as though she was giving a lecture. "This device, the one used in yesterdays fatal blast, has been fitted with an electronic sensor. This sensor has been set to pick up and isolate the electronic frequencies of the implants those of us in G-Force have in our heads." She tapped near her temple. "It uses a low-level frequency that seems to cause a small part of the chip to vibrate. This movement is then picked up by a small sensor, which then trips a switch to detonate the explosive. This explosive compound …" She took a breath. "…is far more potent a charge than anything we've seen here in a while – at least outside of Nuclear weapons research."

"So what you're saying," Mark breathed, "is that we are the detonators for these bombs?"

She nodded. "That's it exactly. It wouldn't matter if G-Force flew in there with the most brilliant explosives engineer on the planet. If they couldn't disarm in under three seconds then … boom."

Anderson grunted. "These things have been specifically designed to destroy G-Force."

She nodded with wide eyes. "Pretty much." She looked into Mark's stunned face. "When it comes to this, G-Force have absolutely no way of helping. They're the triggers."

Mark was obviously distressed by the revelation. "Good God, Princess."

Anderson folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the device in an attempt to work through the new information. "Just how bad is this substance, Princess?"

Damien answered the question for her as she seemed more concerned with assuring Mark it would all be okay. "It's hard for us to break it down compound by compound for you. Most of the active ingredients are alien, so our mass spec couldn't provide us with specific breakdown information other than _unknown_ results."

Anderson didn't seem to mind Damien answering on Princess' behalf; in fact he seemed to encourage him. "Go on, Detective Knight."

He nodded and grinned somewhat excitedly. "Well this stuff is a mix of combustibles, oxidizers, and just plain nasty stuff. If I were to create a similar combination using what we have here on Earth, then it would be unstable, but not very effective. This stuff…" he let out a breath. "Terrifying."

Anderson nodded. "I have had our analysts examine the reports that your department have submitted on the particular substance. As yet we haven't found the exact compounds ourselves."

Princess tilted her head. "Well, would you like me to look into it, Sir?"

Anderson thought on it for a second before he shook his head. "I doubt we have enough time to break it down before more of them are put in place. It may be easier to find a way to block out any of the waves the implants might send out."

Cronus seemed to dislike that idea. "Won't that make your kids deaf and mute to base?"

Anderson ticked air in through his mouth. "Worst case it may cause interruptions in their uniform transitions. But that isn't something the team haven't dealt with before." He pointed at Mark's communicator. "Those transponders work under different principals. They would remain uninterrupted even if the implants were removed completely."

"Good to know," Cronus grunted through the side of his mouth as he watched Princess remove her gloves and place them in an evidence bag.

Princess pressed her palms into the table and blew a long breath of air out of her pursed lips. "Meanwhile, I want to look into a fast neutralizing agent."

"A what?" Mark asked softly as his eyes fell to his mother's ring and the reminder that this woman was soon to be his wife. He felt a jolt of worry for her having to stay a single second longer than necessary. "Is that something that can be done back at Centre Neptune?"

She shook her head. "It's easier to work on it here where I have everything already set to go. If Damien and I work on it without interruption for a couple of hours, we might get lucky and find a compound that can render these explosive compounds useless." She looked at her partner. "That is, if you're willing to stay with me, Damien."

He set a hand on her arm and gave her a wink. "We're partners, Cass. Whatever trouble you get into I'm right there with you." He smirked. "And besides, Mark over here needs to know that someone's got your back."

Anderson gave a firm nod of thanks. "Princess, I want you off the premises and at Centre Neptune no later than five hours from now. I ask that you bring along your immediate team members with you to ensure their safety. Mark and Colonel Cronus will dispatch and be in position following your departure." He looked to the other parties in the room. "Is this acceptable to all?" With several nods to affirm, Anderson stepped back from the table. "Then we move. The less time wasted the better." His eyes flicked to Mark, who looked unwilling to move. "Commander?"

"Just a minute," he breathed in request. "I'll meet you outside, Sir."

Anderson gave a nod, grabbed the sensing apparatus of the bomb, and followed the senior officers out of the room. Once they were out of sight, Mark pulled Princess' old transponder band from his pocket. "I need you to wear this," he ordered softly as he snapped it onto her wrist. "Call me if you need us for anything, and we'll be here in a heartbeat."

She looked down at it and stroked the yellow faceplate tenderly. "I will."

"Promise me," he warned again. "No games or trying to do it alone. If anything happens you punch in a scramble as hard as you can."

She raised her eyes to his. She saw the absolute adoration and desperation in his expression and let the smallest whimper pass through her lips. Without thought she threw her arms over his shoulders and drew him into a long, deep and wet kiss. She gulped hard swallows between each roll of her tongue against his. Although desperate, hard, and full of need, the kiss was just that: a kiss. There was no promise of long hours of lovemaking or heated lust; it was just a desperate kiss of assurance that she would be okay. A kiss that would bring tears before sex, but one both of them sorely needed.

With a loud smack of separating mouths, Princess drew Mark in for a tight hug. When his hold tightened around her waist and she could feel his heartbeat against her breast, she tightened against him yet further.

"Tonight we go home together, Mark. Don't worry about that, okay?"

He nodded against her shoulder. "Promise me that and I'll let you go."

She pulled back and nudged her nose against his. "I promise."

He pulled back quickly as Anderson called his name impatiently from the hallway. With a last stroke of her face with his fingers, he walked out of the room.

Damien blew out a breath when he and Princess were finally alone. "That, is a man in love," he commented with complete honesty. "I pity anyone who tries to come between you."

She gave a small smile and slid a chemical breakdown report of the explosive toward her. "I doubt you would have said the same thing eighteen months ago, Damien."

He pulled a row of test tubes toward him and shrugged. "Sometimes you need to lose something before you can realize how much it actually means to you." He looked at the departing group of military geniuses. "The Eagle is perfect proof of that right now."

She giggled. "Oh that's deep, Damien."

He winked. "And you only get one of those kinds of insights every year from me, so embrace the moment."

She rolled her eyes and ran her finger down the list of components. "Okay, then. Chemical disarmament, let's see how we go with this."


	14. Chapter 14

And oh, for the thrilling climax to this long-winded tale … :scoff:

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

It was a darker evening than Mark had expected. Even though the night sky was crystal clear and surprisingly more starlit that a city night sky should be, the absence of a moon bathed the deserted industrial area in a soup of darkness that was dense and thick. He had to wonder if the timing was actually a brilliant ploy on the part of his enemy or just a stroke of luck. His team's visibility was obviously hampered without the sky's natural kind of fluorescent lighting to warn of shadows moving around them, so he was forced position them all inside the building rather than set up strategic scouting points outside.

Chief Anderson and the tactical heads at the Federation had insisted that G-Force stage the building as though it was still "Business as usual" so as not to alarm Spectra that the warning had been granted. The decision made sense to the G-Force Commander, although he would have preferred a cloak of darkness inside the building with which to play a more dramatic style of ambush against his foe. He wasn't too thrilled at losing the standard "spooky" stride out of the darkness that seemed to mildly intimidate Zoltar on a usual defensive and so made do with just leaning his back against the rear wall in a lazy slouch with his eyes on the doorway.

The twelve hour time frame had come and gone an hour and a half earlier. All excitement and energy of an imminent battle was waning amongst the four soldiers inside the building. Jason was becoming prone to checking the wall clock and grunting in complete boredom from his position on the sidewall. Lisa had long ago slid down her wall to a sloppy and almost masculine seat on the floor with her legs splayed enough to offer a gaping view of the black panties normally hidden underneath her skirt. Keyop was close to sleeping in a stand beside Lisa. Quite honestly, his team had fallen into a level of complacency that Mark considered somewhat dangerous, had Zoltar suddenly burst in the place with guns blazing.

He couldn't blame them, though. His own nerves had eased to the point of being fairly non-existent. There was only really one thread of nervousness that seemed to remain inside his gut – one that warned they'd been had and that this whole warning had been nothing but a deliberate ruse to remove them from the actual target. The worry drew a long whistle through his mouth; one that was his usual creepy call sign when in the midst of battle and he was hidden high in the rafters.

It drew a displeased grunt from his left side.

"That whistle is actually pretty annoying," Jason snarked around the tip of a feather. "Do ya want to knock it off?"

Mark folded his arms and drew the centre of his wings closed across his chest. He complied with the request and lowered his head. "He's late."

"Something tells me he's into that whole fashionably late thing."

Mark lowered his head and pursed his lips to blow out a thin line of breath against his chest. "I get the feeling that there won't be an arrival of his _royal highness_ tonight."

Jason agreed darkly. "Where do you think he's really set to strike tonight?"

Mark shook his head. "I don't know, but it doesn't look like it's here."

He peeled himself from the wall and moved slowly toward his commander. "Then give the order and let us get back to the Phoenix to do a real sweep."

"We stay," Mark muttered back quietly. "The Chief ordered that we don't move until we get instructions from Neptune."

"And meanwhile Zoltar's cronies are gearing up to strike across town."

Mark's eyes flashed up at his second in obvious annoyance. "Do you think I don't know that?" He let his eyes flick to the door. "Orders are orders, Jason."

"You've been known to go against them from time to time."

Mark inhaled a deep breath. "We'll wait another twenty minutes. If he's a no-show by eleven, we're out of here."

Jason cracked his neck to one side and kept his eyes at the door. "What if he's got a tail on Princess and is after her personally?"

Mark's glare shot quickly to his second. "What?"

Jason heard the panic in his Commander's tone that told him he'd not considered that option. "Makes sense. She's going to get the warning, call her hero for help, get swept off to a safe haven while he waits in the shadows with an ambush." He watched Mark's eyes grow wide. "It's what I'd do if I was him. She's easy prey if the guards are elsewhere."

Mark moved quickly. "Dammit, we need to find her." He pushed himself off the wall and waved his hand in an order for his team to move. "Team, to the Phoenix. I've had enough of waiting around for this idiot." He strode quickly to the door and raised his wrist to communicate new orders to the man piloting the team's warship.

The voice of the idiot in question silkily purred from ahead of him. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, Commander."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

A long dinner and a bottle of wine with her two closest friends hadn't cheered the Ex-Swan up any. Five solid hours of analysis and testing had left them no closer to finding an immediate answer to their problem. If anything, it had only reinforced the sense of urgency and danger they were in. The Spectran explosive cocktail was virtually indestructible once mixed and set with a capped detonating device. The only positive seemed to be that, much like Earth's C-4 plastic explosive, the compound required a detonator in order to explode. By itself, the product was fairly useless – but was completely indestructible without detonation. Even once the threat was over, and the compound properly secured deep inside the bowels of some storage facility, there would be the danger of spontaneous ignition at some point in the future. This product was new, they had no way to determine whether or not the stabilizing agent would deteriorate over time to make it as volatile as a vat of Nitroglycerin.

All that their hours of analysis had given was the knowledge that once primed, there was no way to contain the blast – and it bothered her.

Her two immediate teammates, Damien and Sergeant Barron, chatted in an animated manner in the front seats of the Bomb Squad Emergency Response vehicle. The choice for transportation by the trio seemed to be odd, considering the move was supposed to be covert and discrete, but when the Federation had sent their escort team and transport limousine to pick them up, the three of them had vehemently denied interest in climbing aboard. It took a heated thirty-minute debate in the precinct car park between the Federation Officials and the Sergeant, for an agreement had been made for them to take the mammoth blast resistant and bullet proof truck.

Following the debate in the car park came a debate about whether or not the officers were allowed to stop for a meal. The threat of Damien tossing a bomb technician's version of a Molotov cocktail at the lead vehicle, forced the escorts to comply. The trio then spent 90 minutes inside a local tavern enjoying a heavy meal and a couple of drinks.

And damn they'd needed it.

They'd finally wiped their mouths, paid up the tab, and moved back into transit after the fifth demand from Centre Neptune to get their insubordinate assed to the center.

So now they traveled inside a convoy of seven black vehicles toward a venue underneath the ocean. It was a home long ago abandoned by Princess, and aside from the joy of being able to pick up and snuggle her baby daughter, she had no real desire to go back.

She stared out of the tinted rear window of the modified Cadillac and let out a long breath of despondency at not having solved any of the day's problems.

Barron looked up into the rear view mirror at her reflection and let out a small sigh of empathy. "Don't worry, Cassie. He's going to be okay out there."

Her mouth twitched into a smile, but she didn't take her attention from the window. "I know. I'm not worried about Mark …" She dropped her eyes. "Well I am … very … But I am more worried that there is something so much bigger to worry about with this whole _invade the precinct_ plan of Zoltar's"

Damien slouched in his chair to be able to turn to look back at her. "You think Mark and the team are being played, then?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." She looked at her knee and flicked a piece of dust off her jeans. "I doubt it. If Zoltar thought for a second he had them cornered he'd drop any other plans and go after them."

Damien hooked his arm around the seat's headrest to permanently position himself into the conversation. "So what are you thinking?"

She raised her eyes to him and looked juvenile as she shrugged. "I honestly don't know where to begin. It's obviously not going to end tonight, even if G-Force do manage to destroy Zoltar. There's something, a target, that we're missing. We have the breadcrumbs, but seem to have lost the trail."

Barron agreed from the driver's seat. "Maybe if you get a chance to sit down with the guys at Neptune, you might be able to put your heads together and work it out."

Damien grinned. "I'm just dying to see their explosives wing. I hear that section is _huge_."

Princess smiled. "It is pretty impressive, Damien."

Princess leaned her forearm on the window edge and peered into the street. Years of traveling this road growing up, she'd pretty much memorized the route enough to know she could look up out of the window at any time along the trip and know what she'd see.

Tonight, the road looked different.

"Um, Sarge. Are you taking a shortcut?"

Barron shook his head. "No. There's no shortcut to this place, Cass. The Fed guys made it so there's only one way in and one way out."

She shook her head. "No. This is not familiar at all." She sat bolt upright in her seat. "I've traveled this road since I was a child, and I don't recognize anything along here."

Damien angled his head curiously at her. "When was the last time you were up here?"

Her eyes flicked to him. "Eighteen months ago."

Barron gave a laugh. "Ahh yeah. Surprised you didn't know." He flicked on his indicator and changed lanes. "They put this road in about seven months ago to link with the rail line."

Damien contorted his lips in shocked surprise that the former swan didn't know the latest developments surrounding her old workplace. "Yeah, Cass. There was a huge to do over it. Mark and the team were at the opening, and the Swallow got to press the big red button to blow the old road." He shifted his eyes to Barron. "I was so jealous over that. They gave him the good stuff, too."

"Oh," Princess asked softly. "What was it?"

"Whatever that missile of theirs has in it …" He inhaled excitedly. "Hey, care to share with me what's in that missile?"

She shook her head with a smile. "Classified."

"Oh come on."

Her gaze shifted up to the rearview mirror, where she could see Barron's eyes. "So this new tunnel runs with the subway line?"

He shook his head. "The city transit line ends at a station under the beach. From there a series of elevators and movator systems shuttle the passengers to the surface. The Train to the Neptune continues on, but obviously through a different track line."

"Same tunnel?"

Barron nodded. "Yeah."

Her eyes were wide and focused tightly on the big man's eyes. "How far under is this station, Sir?"

"Below sea level? Shit, I don't know, girl. I'd say at least three or four storeys." He noted her unblinking attention and eased his foot off the accelerator to focus more attention on her thoughts. "What's going through your mind, Cass?"

She pressed her fingers to her lips and angled her head to one side in thought. "This tunnel. Is it the only way in and out of Neptune?"

Barron slowed the car more, a move which elicited honks of confusion from the other vehicles in the convoy. "It's what holds Neptune in Place. It's been a floating facility since inception."

"Oh no," she breathed out worriedly as everything began to fall into place. Her eyes rose to her Squad Leader and flashed a moment of panic. "That means the target…"

"Is the Subway junction between Neptune and the city." Barron grit his teeth and gripped tight on the steering wheel as he locked the brakes and sharply turned the wheel. "Hang on you two."

The large vehicle skidded to the side as the brakes seized. The action startled all other vehicles in the procession and it was a miracle that none collided with the other as Barron fishtailed the truck to speed into the opposite lane. He flicked on the sirens and floored the pedal to get them back to the junction as soon as possible.

The big pan thumbed over his shoulder. "Knight, get in the back and suit up. Cassandra, you do the same. Full gear. I'll get on the horn and get some black and whites to clear the area."

Knight barely registered anything the Sergeant had to say as he unclipped his belt and threaded in between the front seats to the back. "You might want to give the Feds a heads up, Sarge."

"On it," he grunted as he noted several vehicles pulling up to pace their truck. "I hope these assholes will stay out of my way," he boomed in threat as the passenger of one of the vehicles signaled to him to stop.

"Just drive over the top of them, man."

Princess couldn't even find it in her to find humour in Damien's remark. She slid through the rear seats into the mammoth cube bed in the back and joined Damien in the fast and tossed around dance of dressing in the back of a moving vehicle. "Damien," she whined softly. "My daughter is in that facility."

"I know, Cass," he answered sympathetically. "Don't worry. We'll get her out okay."


	15. Chapter 15

Mark stood in a predatory stance before G-Force's greatest enemy. His lowered head only slightly registered the gathering of his team beside him, but he knew they were there, he knew in what specific positions each currently held.

They were his team. He knew every minute detail about each of them.

He also knew he would have a slight opportunity for some finesse in a war of tongues against the purple-dressed animal in front of him.

"You're late," he snarled as he stared through the Spectran Leader through his brows. "We were beginning to think that you'd stand us up."

Zoltar didn't appear even slightly intimidated under the glares of four vicious birds. He inhaled dramatically and looked at his fingertips as if assessing a recent manicure. "I had something I needed to do." He whirled his wrist absently in the air as he rolled his eyes. "A little set up gift for your beloved."

Mark's head tilted slowly to one side. "And it seems my beloved set a little something up for you, too."

"Yeah," Jason snarled. "Like a giant can of whoop-ass, G-Force style."

Zoltar rolled his eyes. "Oh how inventive, Condor. Be sure to trademark that will you." He took an exaggerated look behind the foursome. "And just where is our lovely Princess this evening?"

Mark's lip twitched in disgust at her name passing through his lips. "She's where you won't find her."

Zoltar made a dramatic show of bringing a hand up to cover at his mouth. "Oh don't tell me she's at Centre Neptune, Commander."

Mark grunted and took note of the goons filling the room around them. "You seem so smart, you tell me."

Zoltar was theatrical in his horror at the location of the Swan. "Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh Dear. Do tell me you hid she and your little child anywhere else than at your home facility, Commander."

Mark started to worry, and judging by the snort from his left, Jason was too. "Why?"

"Well," he answered in as facetious a voice as possible. "Well I hear there is to be a large explosion there tonight." Theatrics disappeared to be replaced by a victorious snarl. "One that'll not only take out your precious facility, but should wipe out ninety percent of this city's coastline." He stepped within a foot of the Eagle Leader. "As your Condor is so adept at saying, Commander. To remove the weed you take it by the root. Your entire line dies tonight …" He threw his head back and gave a long laugh that signaled his men to attack. He stood still in place as his men bustled him either side, seemingly unaware, or not caring, that he was being tossed side-to-side as his men ran through.

It felt like an eternity to Mark before he could find the ability to move. He didn't register even any feeling in his body until he felt himself get thrown back by the rampaging Spectran goons. He tilted his head back to look across the floor at Jason as he struck the ground.

"Destroy them, Jase. No Prisoners!"

Jason grunted his absolute approval at the order only a second before growling at Lisa sliding along her back feet first through his legs. She fired a handful of shots close enough to him that he could feel the ripple of the shockwave against his cup. He dropped and hauled her to her feet and instantly separated to the opposite direction, his own gun blazing.

Mark's target loomed to close to ignore. He struggled against goons like a running back through the pack to get to him. "This ends tonight!" He boomed as he struck out a goon with the sharp end of his boomerang. "Be a man and take me one on one."

Zoltar did nothing more than slalom from side to side at flying bodies around him. "I am not a man, Commander. I am a ruler." He pointed to the floor as two goons grabbed the Eagle from behind. "Now drop to your knees before me."

"Like Hell," he spat back as he leaned forward and tossed both men over his shoulder. There was another arm around his throat and he spun in the grip to slash his blade across his neck.

As G-Force fought what could only be a losing battle, Zoltar's laugh hauntingly swam though the cordite and bloody air around them.

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Dave Barron reached the alcove for the bus parking of the subway station in what could only have been described as record time. Few of the Federation vehicles had kept up with the V10 engine of the truck doing – at the highest speed – 230km/hr. When he found the location beside a myriad of flashing lights, the stop was so abrupt that both rear occupants of the vehicle were thrown at toward the front of the vehicle.

Princess was accustomed to such variances in G-Forces – or lack thereof – and therefore merely grunted as her shoulder struck the back seat. Damien, however, was not so used to it. He let out a pained yelp as he fell through the valley between the two back seats and struck the back of Barron's chair with his shoulder.

"Damn , fucking, son of a bitch!"

Princess' eyes flared in shock as he swore again and rubbed at his shoulder.

"Fuck, Sarge. Are you trying to fucking kill us?"

Princess shuffled through the seats to check him over. "Damien. Are you okay?"

Barron unstrapped his seatbelt. "Suck it up and be a man, Knight," he growled as he threw open the door and stepped out onto the pavement.

"Yeah easy for you to say," Damien answered as he lay across the center console on one shoulder and looked out at his Sergeant. "You had on a fucking seatbelt."

Princess shushed him gently. "You're okay, Damien. You'll just have a bruise in the morning."

"Yeah," he moaned softly as he drew himself to a seat. He looked back out of the window at Barron and raised his voice. "And I'll take workers bloody compensation for it."

Princess shook her head and shuffled back into the rear of the truck. She quickly set a detector into her holster and pulled on a helmet. She didn't flinch as Barron pulled open the rear doors and the metal ramp clanged heavily on the bitumen.

"You're not going in,, Anderson."

Her eyes flared in time with the gaping of her mouth. "You are _not_ pulling me off this, Sir. I have to disarm it."

Barron shook his head and flicked his fingers to invite Damien out of the truck. "Absolutely not. You're his eyes out here."

She pointed down into the tunnel. "That's my child down there, Sir. I have to do this."

Barron shook his head. "If you walk in there, Cassandra, you'll obliterate all of us." He tapped at his temple. "Think, girl. Think." He tugged a heavy duffel bag down the ramp and walked down to coordinate the above ground teams.

Damien set a hand on her shoulder as she flopped into a chair in front of a view monitor. He heard her shakily inhale. "Don't worry, Cass. I've got it." He used his finger to draw her face to look at him. "You trust me, right?"

She nodded. "Just. Just take it serious, Damien. My whole existence is down the other end of that tunnel."

He pulled on a helmet with a camera and winked as he stroked his fingertip down her nose. "I won't let you down, Partner. I promise you."

She nodded and leaned her elbows on the communications desk as he walked out of the truck and tugged on his Kevlar vest. She dropped her head into her hand as she dropped the other to switch on the monitor. She was slow to affix her headphones and pull the microphone to her mouth to calibrate her systems.

"Damien, it's Cass. Are your ears on?"

He answered her quickly. She could hear by his breathing that he was on the way into the deepest part of the subway. "Reading you loud and clear, Cass. Gotto say this isn't as much fun going in alone."

She found a smile as she lightened the contrast on the monitor. "You're not alone. You've got me with you."

She watched closely through his eyes as he made his way through a well lit and deserted train station. There seemed to be no real obvious signs of anything large out in the open, so she suggested a new location.

"Try utility rooms, Damien. They've been building this a while, so it can't be obviously in-your-face."

"Hear that loud and clear." He swept his eyes along the wall. Within a couple of seconds he found a well-hidden utility room door. "Cross your fingers it ain't locked, Cass."

"I've got everything crossed," she promised as she leaned across to pull a manila folder from a slot on the wall. She opened it and let her finger trail the page to find the appropriate information to the supposed weapon.

"I'm going halves in 6/49, girl. It's open." There was a high and held breath, and then a completely mortified groan. "Oh sweet Jesus. Cassie, this is worse than we thought."

She looked on in horror as he panned his head across the room to let his helmet cam do the talking. She brought both hands to her face and found herself holding a sob at the devastating image in front of her. "God, Damien. You can't possibly disarm all of those units in time."

"I know, girl. There's gotto be ten of them in here."

Ten was accurate. Each separate device connected to enough explosive to equal that of a ten-tonne atom bomb. The timer was set for only ten minutes, and it was ticking down fast.

Without too much thought, she raised her communicator to her lips. "G3 to 7-Zark-7, are you reading me?"

She didn't have more than a second to wonder if her old communicator was still functioning. The saccharine sweet android voice answered her fast. "_Oh Princess. It's so lovely to hear your voice after all this time."_

She didn't want to waste time on niceties right now. "Zark, I don't have much time. Were you able to fins a solution to the problem with the sensors and our implants?"

His voice seemed almost distracted when he answered her. _"According to the latest data from the engineering team, the sensor does have a limitation that we can exploit. Why do you ask?"_

She bit on her lip and sniffed as she continued to watch the apprehension of her partner and the time ticking away. "Just tell me, Zark. I promise you I'll spend an entire evening with you if you just cut the crap and tell me."

He was obviously shocked, but complied. _"The sensor can't read through lead. It's got a low penetration, especially through the G-Force helmets, but the implant isn't exactly that deep, either."_

"Please, Zark. Just get to it."

"_If you apply a lead plate to your helmet, Princess, then it should deflect the sensor's waves and pretty much render you nothing but a dead object in it's sweep."_

"Where the hell am I going to find lead?"

"Pardon me, Princess?"

She shook her head. "Nothing Zark. Thank you. I appreciate your help."

She took another look at the time ticking down, and the fact they had only nine and a half minutes to react. A bolt of inspiration came to her inside a deep inhale, and she flew out of her chair.

"Sarge, do you have any antiques in this truck?"

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Mark didn't completely think it was all that fair of Zoltar to come to a fight against five people with over one hundred of his own men. He also didn't find it particularly pleasant that each of them had automatic firearms, whilst his team was pretty much relegated to single fire option weapons. As he toppled to one side with a blinding hit from a goon, he tossed out his boomerang. It returned with enough time for him to launch a foot against the cheek of his attacker and roll back up to his feet.

He crouched to look through the throng for the king of the group.

"Zoltar. Where are you, you cowardly son of a bitch?"

A whirring clack of bolas spinning past his head ended his search, and Mark dove into the chest of a goon hulking over Lisa. In her place another goon fell clutching at his throat where Keyop's bolas had struck.

Jason's voice cried over the din. "Commander. Outside."

Mark's back straightened to look above the heads. Zoltar was fast heading out of the door, with Jason right behind him. He looked back at Lisa and Keyop. "Forget them. Take out Zoltar – he's your only target now."

They moved in triangle formation with Mark at the lead through the men and into the carpark. They skidded on gravelly tarmac in front of a large cricket-shaped machine.

"Give me a fucking break," Mark hissed under his breath.

Jason rubbed at his brow under his visor. "It just continues to get better, doesn't it, Skipper?"

Zoltar's laugh filled the air once more. He stood at the ground at the Cricket's rear leg. One hand he held victoriously in the air, his eyes wide on his clawed fingers. In the other hand, he grasped the hair of a bound woman on her knees.

"G-Force," he boomed in apparent victory. "Tonight you see defeat …" He lowered his head to gaze darkly at the G-Force Commander. "Defeat, finally, at the hands of the one true ruler of your puny little planet."

Mark sneered to one side and checked his team through his peripheral vision to ensure a uniform line. "We are not defeated yet, Zoltar."

He shook his hand, causing the woman in his hold to wail out in pain. "You know who this is, don't you, Commander?"

Mark flicked a lip. He knew who it was, but felt no urge to care. "Yes, Zoltar. She is but one of your many mindless goons."

"Oh no, no," he corrected with a smile. "A goon she is not." He hauled her painfully to her feet. "A puppet, perhaps."

Melissa tumbled with a hard push to her knees and looked at defiant as possible toward G-Force. "This gives you nothing, Zoltar," she seethed. "He and I are nothing to each other."

Zoltar ticked his finger from side to side in chiding. "Now. Now. We both know that isn't true."

"Yeah," Mark corrected bluntly. "Kill her. I really don't care."

Zoltar laughed. "Oh you say it, Commander. You say it, but do you mean it." He leaned down to the woman and held her hair to turn her face to Mark. "She's blood, after all. What would daddy say if you let his little girl die?" He smirked. "You're a daddy aren't you? What if this was little … oh what is her name?"

Mark growled. "Don't you dare breathe her name."

Zoltar laughed again, paused, and then held a hand to his ear. "What was that sound? Do you hear it?" He blew out a breath to mimic an explosion. "Oh noooo," he wailed. "Was that the end of Centre Neptune; and your legacy?"

Jason hiccupped beside Mark. "Commander. Enough of this bullshit, let's take him."

Mark blinked back the sudden feeling of loss inside his belly. "Yeah Jase." Each tear he blinked out of his eye hotly burned down his cheeks. He used that small amount of pain to find his anger. "Yeah."

He stepped forward and spread his arms to his side. "G-Force. Whirlwind pyramid."

Jason quickly thread his arm across Mark's. "They got out Mark – you know they did."

He felt the light touch of Lisa's feet on his shoulders and clenched his eyes tightly. When his world took on a violent spin, he expelled every heated emotion he'd felt over the past eighteen months expel from his mouth in a single, fierce cry.


	16. Chapter 16

It had taken her approximately forty-five seconds to try and get the equipment she needed. It should have taken only around thirty, but Princess was stumbling through her explanation and request so quickly, that noone, not even Zark, could have understood her. Fortunately Barron pieced it together by focusing on key words and had zipped into the truck to pull out an item she didn't even know the truck had …

…A lead vest used by radiologists in an X-Ray room.

Five seconds after crudely wrapping it around her head and securing it with duct tape, she dove down into the subway and began her search for her partner. She found him inside fifteen seconds and growled as she looked at the red flashing countdown.

Damien was obviously in a profuse sweat as he crouched over one unit with a pair of pliers in his teeth. He was surrounded by several differently sized pliers and cutters and swore around the piece in his mouth as he worked through his second disarming.

"Sarge," he mumbed as he felt a new presence in the room. "Tell me Cass has you up to speed. I'm only getting through one every minute and a half here."

Princess set her hand on his shoulder and checked the status of the only neutral device. "My record on these is forty-five. I'll start at the other end."

His head jerked at his partner's voice and he flicked his attention to her for only a second before he looked back down at his bomb. He continued to work in amongst the wires. "Three, two, one …" he counted down, wincing in morbid expectation as the last number left his lips.

Princess wanted to chuckle at him as she frantically thrust her hand alongside a handful of wires in search of the elusive lead wire. "Don't worry, I'm not ticking."

He let out a grunt as he snipped the wire and yanked the rest free from the timer. "Two down," he breathed and slid on his knees to the next one. "You're lucky we're about to die," he muttered. "Or I'd have to snap photographs of and give you hell for your headdress."

She leaned back on her knees and pulled her clippers from her pocket. "Pretty it isn't," she breathed, "But it might save us all."

"Here's hoping," he muttered as he held a wire and reached for his clippers. "You know Cass."

"Mm-hmm?" She hummed distractedly as she yanked free the timer on her first weapon and slid across to the next.

"It's been a blast, you know that?"

She grinned and fished her fingers into a new set of wires. "Pun intended I suppose."

"I'm a Bomb Technician, what did you expect?"

She didn't look away from her task, but jutted her chin toward the next device. "How about neutralizing bombs?"

He grinned and moved toward the next. "Multitaking."

She blew out a breath of air and lifted her lip into an irritated snarl at this particular bomb's wiring playing difficult. "Can you do two at once instead?"

He scoffed and lowered his face into the mass of wires. "Can you stop ignoring what I'm trying to say?"

She let out a huff and gave him an exaggerated attentive look that lasted exactly one and a half seconds. "I hear you, Damien. But," she dropped her head back to the task at hand. "I am not going to give the last _I loved working with you so now goodbye_ speech. Not right now." She moved on to the next one. "Because we're getting out of this."

He passed his eyes across to the next bomb's timer as it fell to below the five-minute mark. "We've got six to do in four, Cass. Can we do it?"

She winked at the bomb, not at him, as she pulled another timer free. "You bet."

Four minutes counted down a lot faster than the two technicians were comfortable with. Pressure and rush on their last respective bombs drew out their disarming time to an inappropriate level. Princess could feel the sweat of exertion and panic sliding her lead headdress across her hair as she shifted and moved between pliers and wires. She swore she could hear her bloodflow through her ears; a heavy whooshing sound like pressurized water pulsing through a flexible tube. She tried hard to ignore the deafening qualities of such a sound as the cutters surrounded the offending wire.

She shuddered as she tried to find strength to close the clippers. With climax to the situation only a squeeze of her fingers away, her body was reluctant. She found her ability only once a bead of sweat broke free from her brow and rolled into her eyes. She heard the snip of the wire, and then felt a mortifying buzz in her head as the duct tape finally broke it's hold and released the lead vest to the floor.

She couldn't block the panicked cry that escaped her lungs as she frantically tried to retrieve the garment and set it back into place within the three-second time frame.

"No. No. No. No," she sobbed as she frantically scrambled and fumbled. "God, No. Damien, I'm so sorry."

She didn't notice that the buzzing had ceased and the danger passed until his hands pulled the vest away from her and he pulled her hard against him. "It's okay, Cass. We did it." His voice was as shaky as hers was. "We did it."

She clutched onto him tightly as she finally let her fear escape her body. "I have never been so scared in my life."

He pulled back from her and stroked her hair from her face several times before he settled his hands on both her cheeks. He admired her intently. "You and me, both, Cass."

She touched his hands and closed her eyes in a slow blink as she felt her body calm. When she opened her eyes she saw in his the deep thankfulness and admiration she'd only ever seen from Jason. "We're a hell of a team, Damien."

He nodded and poked out his bottom lip. "So don't leave me for them, okay?"

She gave him a wide-eyed stare. "For who?"

Be blinked slow and let out a breath as he drew himself to a stand. "Never mind. I'm just being a selfish asshole."

She said nothing through her own confusion as he walked toward one of the many units to begin pulling the actual detonators from the bombs. She still sat on her ass on the gravelly and dusty concrete floor of the utility room, but she watched him work as though she were pulling the detonators with him.

It was close, she thought to herself finally as she looked around the room at the incomprehensible amount of compound pressed into each corner of the walls. So close that she had let herself panic, not only for her own life, but for the many more which would have been lost.

He interrupted her thoughts with a breath of disbelief. "This is just insane, Cass." He held up a fistful of detonators and shuddered. "If we hadn't of been able to work through these … God." He looked up to the ceiling. "He's a mad man."

She raised her eyes to her partner, and blinked back a tear. She considered the tiny life back at Neptune who was only there, within death's grasp, because her father had so ordered it. By trying to save the little girl he's put her in worse peril. Her breathing quickened into shallow panting that made her light headed.

"This is why," she whispered softly.

Damien turned and crouched beside her as he tucked the handful of wires into something a little neater than a hurried mess. "Why what, Cass?"

She raised her eyes from the floor. "Why I hid her from him."

"You mean Mark?"

She nodded and rocked forward to press her hands into the ground to push herself to a stand. "I hid her to protect her." She clutched at the front of his vest and fell apart. "I struggled, cried, fought, and broke my own heart just to shield her from all this."

He was startled by her admission, and by the absence of colour in her eyes. He stooped just a little to lower himself to her height. "Princess," he began, choosing her G-name in the hope it would bring her back to clarity. "Don't do what I know you're thinking. She needs him as much as she does you." He held her arms. "And that man needs the two of you. You'll destroy him if you leave again."

She shook her head, losing her focus on him. Her eyes danced across his chest, but saw nothing. "I have to. This won't ever end. It'll keep going and going and going."

Damien worried at her sudden sing-song voice and vacant eyes. He looked at the mess over her shoulder and then back into her face. "I wish I knew what to say, Cassie…"

She ignored him and stepped back as her head rolled from side to side on her neck. "On, and on and on and …"

Damien's eyes shot wide as her voice began to lower and darken with every word she spoke. Her languidness gradually controlled and slowed. Her eyes filtered in colour and steeled ahead of her. There was a transition between scared and aggressive that seemed to happen so horrifically fast that Damien wasn't sure if she would remember that he was a good guy.

But she continued, and her voice slowed and lowered into nothing more than a growl. "And on. And on."

Damien was officially scared. He knew the Swan's reputation. He knew how well she could destroy anything and everything that threatened she and those she loved. He took a step back from her and half whimpered her name.

She blinked and slid her eyes to him. "It ends tonight."

His voice was still weak. "What?"

"The danger to the people I love at the hands of that monster ends tonight."

He nodded timidly. "Okay. Cass. Just. Just don't hurt me, okay? Partners, remember?"

She took a look at her old communicator and inhaled a long breath. "You're my best friend, Damien," she assured darkly. "Right now, you're the safest man on this planet." Her arm rounded out wide to one side and she watched it as she lifted it above her head. She smiled when she saw the tiniest little spark flicker in the faceplate and when the Flaming Phoenix symbol flashed brightly to her. "Transmute!"

Damien was actually thrown backward a little by the explosive bubble of light that took her over. He staggered into a hunch and covered his eyes with one arm. He tried hard to see through the light to check if his partner was okay, but with every shift of his arm from his eyes the light blinded him. He cried out her name into the buzzing energy and was rewarded only with the haunting chiding honk of a Swan.

And then silence and dark.

He heard a bulb pop in the fixture above his head and drew his arm from his face. He couldn't hide a gasp at beauty of the woman before him. "Cassie?"

She tilted her head and gave him a gentle stare. "Up until now you didn't really believe it, did you?"

He shook his head, but didn't move. In fact he didn't even speak.

She looked down her shoulder, petted her pouches and stroked at her yo-yo. "I missed you," she muttered to it as she turned and flicked her hip to leave the room.

Damien quickly snapped out of his funk and ran behind her. "Wait Cass. Don't go in there alone, let us go with."

She shook her head as she stalked to the surface. "This is our fight, Damien. I don't want you to get hurt."

He wasn't willing to touch her, but the desire to try and stop her was practically overwhelming. "C'mon, girl."

She ignored it as she stepped into the street and steeled herself to assess which vehicle would suit her the best to get her back to the station in time to join the fight. There was, perhaps, a distracting moment of detected gasps and whispered comments from the other officers, but that was quickly demolished with a proud suggestion from her Squad leader.

"There's a police bike to your left, Swan." Barron purred from his position. "It'll pull 220 if you know how to stroke her just right."

She smiled coyly over her shoulder at him. "Thank you, Sir."

Damien panted when he reached Barron and the other officers and pointed at her with his whole hand as she mounted the bike. "You aren't seriously going to let her go are you?"

He folded his arms against his chest and gave a firm nod. "She's got job to do, Knight."

"But alone?" He jogged to the cab of their truck.

Barron flicked a brow at him as he revved the engine. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To help my partner, Sarge." He nodded at her as she kicked up the stand to take off. "She might be G-Force, man. But she's also one of us." He revved hard again. "She's going after Zoltar, Sir. That fucking coward just fucked with one of ours, and I damn well am gonna let this asshole know that if you go after one of us, you take us all on."

_~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~_

Zoltar hated this; the damn G-Force whirlwind attack. For too many years his men had succumbed to this most lethal of Earth forces. Unlike his men, however, Zoltar was rarely caught up in the cyclonic expulsion of turbulence their attack generated. He was used to the maneouvre. He'd seen it more times than he had soldiers.

He stood firm with his elbow locked around a steel joist of his mecha and merely gripped both hands together to steady himself. His men, however, they were rather easily defeated inside the fifteen seconds the birds were invisible inside their tornado.

Long ago he had assumed that if he was unable to see him, then the reverse must also be true. It was clear that the trick took a specific formation in order to be so effective. His suggestion of a fast elimination of the threat had been communicated with the Luminous one many months ago. Tonight was his first attempt to see if he was truly as smart as he believed himself to be.

With his eyes in the tornado, he angled his head to the left. "Fire!"

A hole in the body of the cricket wound open and a large canon-like barrel slowly shifted into position. As ordered, the gun fired a hot, bright, blast of light into the heart of G-Force's attack.

There was a loud feminine cry of pain, an accompanying panicked call of what Zoltar assumed was the woman's name, and then the entire G-Force team flew violently out of their whirlwind.

Lisa struck the ground first. She landed shoulder-first on the grass and was propelled into several overhead rolls that finally ended with she on her side in the dirt. She valiantly tried to push herself up off the ground, but only managed to press herself as high as the length of her arms would allow before she collapsed back down.

Jason landed next, on his feet, but awkwardly. He stumbled onto his knees and rose to his feet to run only a handful of steps toward Lisa before he stumbled again. He rolled and continued to try to get to her as he called out her name worriedly.

Keyop and Mark were the only two to touch down with any amount of dignity, although their landings were less than gentle. Mark spared a glance toward Lisa, who still tried hard to rise, but continued to fall, and then at Jason, whose highest concern at the moment seemed to be the fallen Falcon.

He looked upward and raised his wrist to his mouth as Zoltar's laugh rang through once again. "Tiny. We could use you down here, buddy." He didn't listen for the reply before he stalked two steps toward Zoltar.

"Congratulations," he growled as facetiously as possible. "It only took you, what, six years to work out how to stop that."

Zoltar stepped down from his platform and kicked randomly at a prostrate goon in his way. He could see Mark's uneasy gait and knew there was the possibility of injury to the great Eagle. "Is there still fight in you, boy?" He snarled. "You're more than one man down." His hand waved up to invite his remaining goons out of the machine. "And I, I have almost a full army."

Mark shook his head defiantly. "You still haven't won, Zoltar."

"Haven't I?" he purred as he swept his hands through the air to present the scene. "I've already destroyed your family, your precious home base, your pride and now it looks like your team are only a few gunshots away from annihilation as well."

Mark staggered defiantly forward. "While I still breathe, Zoltar, you have nothing."

Zoltar held up a gun into the Eagle's visor. "Then that is something I'll rectify right now."

A booming and low roar sounded from above, which took Zoltar's attention from his kill. The Spectran ruler raised his head to the sound with wide eyes. He barely had time to move before the massive girth of G-Force's muscle landed on the ground with as much force as to register on any nearby Richter Scales.

Tiny rubbed at his fist then punched at his hand a couple of times as he stalked forward toward a man who was now petrified to be in existence. The Owl, the one the Spectrans always referred to as _the Fat One_, seemed now to have doubled in height as well as width and barreled down upon Zoltar with an expression that swore a thousand deaths.

"You wanna mess with someone, slimebag, then mess with me," Tiny threatened with enough venom in his voice to frighten even his own teammates.

Zoltar turned and fled back to his platform. He pointed behind him. "Men. Attack. Protect your ruler!"

The challenge seemed to thrill the Big Man. Tiny grinned and fell into a high crouch to brace himself against the sudden wall of green that was fast approaching. Each arm held out either side of him and he let out a massive grunt as he ran into the crowd and clotheslined as many Spectrans as he could.

Zoltar wasn't exactly sure where this beast had come from. He gagged as he heard the Owl let out gargantuan grunts as he pleasured in taking the men by their hair to slam their heads together. He was effortless in his fight to free himself of hapless soldiers attempting to tackle him to the ground. Men were thrown about as if nothing. When the Swallow leapt in to join the assault, the big man became more fierce.

All the while, the owl had his eyes firmly locked on the face of Zoltar. It was fearsome in it's intimidation. Why G-Force had locked this creature away in the Phoenix for so many years, he would never understand.

Mark, meanwhile, had limped across the grass toward Jason and Lisa. There was a bloody hole in her side, just under her ribs. She writhed in pain, but valiantly vowed to keep fighting. She shoved Jason from her repeatedly as she tried to side to her feet.

Jason looked at Mark and shook his head. "She's done, Mark."

Mark nodded. "Stay with her, then. Leave the fight to us." He spun on his good leg and marched as proudly as he could back into the frey. His target was beyond a wall of thirty men. Thirty men, who currently had a rampaging Owl and Swallow tearing them apart.

He yelled as he launched his boomerang through the crowd and leapt high to catch it and fire again.

The cannon fired once more, this time tossing Keyop off his flightpath. His little body slammed against Tiny, who stumbled when he contracted his body to catch the little guy. Mark landed in front of them both as Tiny staggered into a fall, and let out a few controlled breath as the sea of green in front of them parted to allow Zoltar back through.

"You know," Zoltar began slowly. "I have to admit that I might actually miss this." He stepped to one side of the Eagle and admired the legend for a long second. "You are, by far, the greatest enemy I have encountered."

Mark kept his breathing steady as he considered the most effective kamikaze option to end the madness once and for all. "I wish I could say our feelings are reciprocated, Zoltar."

Zoltar tsked loudly. "Such a shame your beautiful little Swan couldn't be with you on your final battle, Commander." He smiled. "She was such a beauty to behold. So much more a fighter than you'd ever let her become."

Mark's head snapped to glare at his enemy. "Mention her again and I swear to God I'll kill you."

Zoltar's brow flicked upward. He was quiet for a long moment before he suddenly bubbled into hysterical laughter. "Kill? Me? Commander, look around you. You and your team are defeated. There is nothing left in any of you. Nothing."

Mark blinked slowly, vaguely aware of the distant sounds of police vehicles. "It isn't over until the fat lady sings." He straightened, but wobbled, proudly in difference to the pain he was feeling. "And I can't hear any opera right now."

A silky feminine voice ghosted across the wind to the side of both men. "How about a little Zeppelin, Commander? I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for a little rock and roll."

All eyes shot to the pink uniform of the former G-Force woman as she slid through the crowd. Her eyes were squarely on Mark as she threaded her fingers through his and touched her other hand to his chest. "Sorry I'm late, Commander." Her eyes narrowed and swept toward Zoltar. "I had a little thing to deal with before I could see if the skirt still fit."

Mark tightened his hand on hers. "Better late than never, Princess."

Zoltar's eye twitched at the sight of her before him. "You?"

She still semi-embraced Mark as she was addressed by the Spectran ruler and offered only a facetious smile. "Oh, you thought I got caught up in the big bang expected over at Neptune? Why that little thing?" Her tone fell fast. "You'll need to do better than that."

Mark found his want to smile again and let pride energize him as Jason and a defiant Lisa stepped up into the group. "United we stand tonight, Zoltar," he breathed proudly. "We're ready."

Zoltar coughed. He cracked his neck. He curled a lip. He let out an almighty roar. "Kill every single one of them!"

Princess opened her arms and leapt high in the air beside Mark as the reenergized G-Force team battled again. Her sense of absolute belonging swirled around her with every zip of a bullet past her helmet. It was as though the fight was nothing but a sublime dance as she spun, kicked, and swung her yo-yo at any man who dared near her.

It seemed like only a few seconds before the din died and she landed softly on the grass beside a silent, fallen goon. She smiled as she searched out the rest of her team and was somewhat irritated to find Zoltar standing in a direct line between she and Mark.

She licked slowly at her lip as Mark's eyes met hers and blew a breath of air from her mouth that could almost have looked like a kiss.

Mark smiled in return and lightly flicked his head toward Zoltar in a silent order. She nodded and leaned back to launch herself into a run.

Mark ran toward the Spectran ruler in time with her and, as the two G-Force members collided against Zoltar, they embraced around him and began a fast and turbulent pirouette.

The remaining members of G-Force, Damien, Barron, and about ninety percent of the city police force watched on in complete awe as the tornado of Swan and Eagle spin and rose up from the ground.

There was a solitary sound that emanated from the tornado. It was a long cry. This wasn't a war or battle cry of a man at war, it was a long and sorrowful wail of absolute and utter defeat. The cry wailed on, hiccupped, and then began again with what appeared to be an explosion of force through the side of the tornado as the Spectran leader was propelled out. He flailed through the air and fell hard to the grass at Barron's feet.

Zoltar moaned and tried to press himself up from the ground. At his first fall back to earth, he felt the sting of the muzzles of a dozen large firearms hold him down in place. He blinked up into the crowd of black-dressed city enforcers.

Damien took great pleasure as he dropped into a crouch beside Zoltar and gave him a solitary punch across the face. "You, dirtbag, have the right to remain silent…"

Barron looked up at the slowly waning windstorm in the sky. Spotlights from cruisers highlighted the slowly emerging figures still spinning within. Even through the white and grey winds he could see that the two warriors spun together, their bodies intertwined as one. Her arms held around his neck, his around her waist. They melded not only in body, but in spirit as the two lovers passionately embraced and kissed in the middle of battle.

The old Sergeant held his hat at his chest in respect as Mark and Princess softly touched the ground and their short moment of perfect romantic intimacy dove into something somewhat more desperate. The Eagle didn't appear to care what was happening and who was watching as he desperately clutched the face of his Swan and kissed her with absolute intensity.

The desperate kiss softened and fell into a long and uplifting hug. Mark lifted his prize by her waist and held her tightly to him as the other members of G-Force joined them on the celebrations.

Barron signed hard and gave a nod as he dropped his hand heavily on the shoulder of his younger officer. "Knight. It looks like we need to begin a search for your new partner."

~~Fin~~


End file.
